Silent Auction
by WaterDragonQueen1
Summary: Barely into the new school year at a new school, Alan finds trouble and learns of a darker side to humanity. Will his father and brothers be able to save Alan before heis lost to them forever? AU, Rated M for language and my twisted mind going being dark.
1. New School

**Disclaimer:**I do not own the Thunderbird characters, settings, or other nuances. All i own are Archer's Academy, the schoolmates and the bad guy. I gain nothing from writing this story, only a chance to flex my writing mind.

**A/N: **This is somewhat movieverse. But there is no Hood incident. So also an alternate universe. I also have a sick and twisted mind, and the main 'action' of this story could be disturbing to some people; but won't come for a few chapters. I will also make sure to write a warning at the begining of said chapter, give any readers a chance to turn back.

**Summary:** Barely into the new school year at a new school, Alan finds trouble and learns of a darker side to humanity. Will his father and brothers be able to save Alan before heis lost to them forever?

* * *

><p>"Dad," Alan whined, "Do I really have to go to school? I mean can't I homeschool with Tin?"<p>

Sternly looking his youngest in the eyes, Jeff replied, "For the last time, Alan, no. You are going to school like your brothers before you. If you were at home, there would be too many distractions."

The fourteen year old blonde Tracy just grumbled to himself and stared at the ground. _They may have gone to school, but the Thunderbirds weren't around when _they_ were younger! I could learn so much just being a Thunderbird, school isn't necessary…unless you ask Dad…_

The dark haired Tracy patriarch just shook his head and led Alan towards the Registrar's office; Fermat, the son of Jeff's friend and chief scientist, Hiram Hackenbacker, following close behind, trying to think of a way to cheer up his best friend. In the office of Archer Academy, a private boys school nestled in the green mountains of Vermont, the secretary looked up, "How may I help you, sir?"

"Hello, I would like to sign in two new students," Jeff said pointing to Alan and Fermat.

"Have they been enrolled, sir?" Jeff nodded, "Alright then, what are their names?"

"Alan Tracy and Fermat Hackenbacker," the elder Tracy supplied.

"Hackenbacker, Fermat…yup, right here," the secretary said to herself, "Tracy, Alan, got it. Alright, here are your dorm assignments and class schedules," She said, pulling papers from the printer. "Looks like you two are roommates in Marx Hall. Here are your keycards, and security codes with instructions," She handed a small pile of paper and plastic to Jeff, before continuing, "You boys have the day to settle into your room. Then tomorrow at noon there is a presentation for new students. The weekend has optional activities for you, but I recommend at least doing one or two, they help with finding your way around. Then Monday, classes will begin for eighth graders. The upper classmen will come next weekend. Any questions?" Receiving the negative from two Tracy's and one Hackenbacker, the secretary smiled, "Alrighty, if you boys need anything just come here, or find a faculty member. Information for curfew and meals is in your room. Have a nice day."

Walking out into the sun of a summer morning, Jeff, Alan, and Fermat walked back to the car. Once everyone was settled, Jeff headed for Marx Hall, and parked out front. Other students and parents were either arriving, shuttling from car to room with supplies, or saying good byes. Having shipped all their belongings a week ago, the group of three headed for the second floor of the hall. Stopping outside room 204, Jeff handed Fermat and Alan their keycards and read the instructions. "Looks like you insert the card, then type in your code…Alan yours is 1-5-7-7…Fermat you have 2-9-3-0. The directions say that you should both enter your codes and cards now." Looking at Fermat, Alan nodded that he should go first.

Fermat stepped forward, and inserted his keycard. A small beep and red light changing to yellow signaled the code should be entered. Punching in 2-9-3-0, the light went from yellow to green and a click was heard. "W-what n-n-now, Mr. T-Tracy?"

"Open the door and close it again. Then Alan repeats the process…" Nodding, Fermat did at instructed, and looked at Alan.

Alan repeated the process, but entered 1-5-7-7 for his code. When the light turned green, he opened the door. Then he and Fermat walked in together. "Alright! Bunk beds!" Alan exclaimed and fist bumped Fermat.

Jeff smiled and looked around, "Looks like all of your boxes are here. Need help setting anything up?"

The bunk bed was set adjacent a large window, with two desks under it. Two closets were opposite the bed and a bathroom was in the corner between the wall with the entry and the wall with the beds. "D-d-do we w-want to move a-a-things a-a-around?" Fermat asked, look towards Alan.

Alan shrugged, "Not much to move, in my opinion, what do you think?"

"T-the set u-up l-looks su-su-conducive to s-studying," Fermat smiled.

"Well, the least I can do is make the beds, and help unpack, so I can take the boxes with me. Sound good?"

"Yeah, that works, dad. First, let's get some tunes going," Alan said, moving towards one of his boxes and digging around until he came out with a radio. Setting it on a desk and plugging it in, Alan tuned into a radio station playing oldies music. _Parent approved music…at least until Dad leaves… _he thought

And with that the room became a busy environment, Jeff made Fermat's bed first, because it was on the bottom; tucking the sheets tight like he learned in the Air Force. Fermat was setting up his computer, as Alan put his clothes away. As Jeff moved onto the upper bunk, Alan and Fermat switched jobs and set up their desk or closet, respectively. As each box was emptied, they stacked them inside one another. An hour and a half later, eight boxes were stacked and three people sat down with a sigh.

"So, it's one o'clock now, anyone want to get lunch?" Jeff offered.

"T-that s-s-sounds l-like a gr-gr-gr-wonderful idea," Fermat remarked with a boyish grin.

Alan smiled too, "Yeah…that is if we can find a descent place to eat in this maple syrup infested state!" he joked.

Jeff chuckled, "You'd be surprised, Alan, most places here will be more home-cooked style."

With that the party of three left to hunt down a restaurant. Jeff returned the young boys to Archer's by four fifteen, and they said their goodbyes. Hugging Fermat close, Jeff wished him luck. Turning to Alan, Jeff repeated the process, adding an "I love you, son." Alan returned the sentiment, then he and Fermat watched Jeff get back into the car and drive off.

With a sigh, Alan turned to Fermat, "What should we do now?"

"W-we c-could walk a-a-around. S-see w-what the s-s-grounds look l-like."

"Sounds good, then we can relax in the room or see who lives in our hall," Alan added. So the two friends set off. Walking the grounds of the small school. Trying to remember where their classes were.

The rest of the night was spent relaxing. Alan and Fermat met their neighbors on either side; Jake and Rob were in 203 and Sam and DJ were in 205. Rob, like Fermat, was a year younger and rather smart and was from Albany, New York. Jake and DJ had gone to school together since they were young and played hockey together. Both were Vermonters from St. Albans. Sam was an athletic kid, but had his eyes set on military, being a Marine brat from Virginia.

The nine o'clock curfew, found all the residents in their rooms, nine thirty being lights out.

Friday morning found Fermat up and on his computer early, waiting for Alan to wake up so they could get breakfast before the new student presentation. Eight thirty and Alan all but rolled off the top bunk, catching himself easily. "Mor'in," he slurred, rubbing his eyes and walking to the bathroom.

"Morning, Alan," Fermat replied with a smile and shake of his head. A quick shower for both boys and they were ready to go eat.

Pancakes – with real maple syrup – and bacon was first meal of the day. Fermat and Alan sat down at a table in the corner, soon joined by Sam and Rob. "Where are DJ and Jake?" Alan asked.

"They ate earlier and went for a run. They want to be in shape for ice hockey tryouts," Sam replied, "I don't know why anyone would want to play a sport that is inside but _still_ cold!"

"Why'd you come to Vermont, if you don't like the cold," Rob joked.

"Because," Sam said, swallowing some pancake, "Archer's has a highly accredited ROTC program for the high school."

"St-still, s-s-seems like a b-b-big ch-ch-ch-difference in t-t-temperatures," Fermat pointed out after sipping his orange juice.

"Look who's talking. Didn't you say you were from the tropics?" Sam countered.

"We may be from the tropics, "Alan piped up, "But we have also have a place in New York, where my dad works. And I am originally from Kansas."

"I still can't get over who you dad _is_. Com'mon, Jeff Tracy! You are so lucky," Rob exclaimed.

"So lucky I get sent away for school," Alan grumbled.

"M-Mr. T-Tracy may b-be f-f-f-well known, b-but he r-r-raises his s-sons l-like a K-K-Kansas f-f-farmer," Fermat cut in.

The four friends finished their meal at eleven fifteen, and decided to walk to the auditorium together. On the way they met up with Jake and DJ, freshly showered.


	2. Routine

The first weekend went by fast. Alan and Fermat met some of their classmates and teachers during the orienteering activities. Monday morning came too fast and soon Alan and Fermat were learning about their classes:

(8:00am) First Period was English Literature

(9:00am) Second Period was Earth Science

(10:00am) Third Period was Algebra

(11:00am) Lunch and a free period brought them through to one o'clock

(1:00pm) Fourth Period was Art

(2:00pm) Fifth Period was Physical Education

(3:00pm)Sixth Period was Spanish

After Spanish, Alan went back to the room, ready to collapse into bed, _that was an exhausting day!_ Fermat had decided to go with Rob to check out the game room on the first floor. A chiming from his computer told Alan that he had a call coming in. Sighing, he sat down and answered the call, "Hey, Dad."

"You look beat, son. How'd the first day go?"

"Oh just great!" Alan feigned excitement, "I can't wait to start it all again tomorrow!"

Jeff smiled at the sarcasm, but before he could respond, a "Is that the Sprout?" was heard.

Jeff nodded as his eldest and middle son, Scott and Virgil, walked over, "Hey, kiddo, your brain fried yet?" Scott asked with a smile.

"You have no idea," Alan said, stifling a yawn, "And today was only going over syllabi!"

"Sprout," Virgil grinned, "You do know that that was the easy part, right?"

"Har har. And don't call me Sprout…or kiddo!" Alan quickly added seeing Scott and Virgil about to say it.

Jeff just chuckled, "How's Fermat?"

"I-I'm g-g-good, Mr. T-Tracy," Fermat said entering the room.

A round of "Hey Fermat" was spoken by all four present Tracy's. "You boys all settled in now?" Jeff inquired.

"Y-y-yes, a-and we m-m-met our n-n-neighbors," Fermat smiled, looking over Alan's shoulder.

"That's good to hear," Scott said, "Are they nice?"

"As a matter of fact, they are," Alan deadpanned, "One's from New York, another is from Virginia, and the other two are from Vermont."

"Ooo, Vermonsters," Virgil teased, "Whatever you do, do not dis maple syrup, autumn leaves, or their farms…you won't survive."

"I'll tell them you said that, and then let them know when you're around," Alan mock threatened. "Hey, where's Gordon?"

"Five rotation," Scott answered, "John will be back later today."

"H-H-How, long i-is he d-d-down for?" Fermat wondered.

"Thought I would give him four weeks this time around. Gordon has the first two then Scott of Virgil will go up. Haven't quite decided yet, suggestions?" Jeff looked at Alan and Fermat.

The two young boys looked at each other, then said to together, "SCOTT!"

"What? Why me?" Scott sputtered.

"Yes, I would like to know how I became the favorite so quickly," Virgil smirked.

"B-b-because, Scott, y-y-you a-ate a-a-all the pie!" Fermat stuttered with a grin.

"And," Alan continued, "You haven't been up to Five in a year."

"I can't believe this…" Scott muttered as he walked away, barely saying good bye.

Virgil watched him go then turned back to the screen, "Thanks, guys! Now I can work on my paintings more."

"Any time Virgie," Alan smiled back and waved as Virgil followed Scott out.

"Well, sounds like Scott has the second rotation," Jeff tried, and failed, to hide his smile, "Now you two, behave yourselves. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye, M-Mr. Tracy."

As the screen darkened, Alan looked at the clock. It was almost five, and dinner was fast approaching. "Want to get dinner at five thirty?"

"Sure," Fermat nodded.

_**Tracy Island**_

Jeff sat back in his chair and chuckled, _even with one at school and one in space, they manage to rile each other up!_

Walking out into the lounge, Jeff found Scott brooding and Virgil trying very hard not to laugh as he played a lively tune on the piano. Walking up to his eldest, the patriarch sighed. "You know, just because they suggested it, doesn't mean you have to listen," Scott said, a little hopeful.

Jeff snorted, "Sorry, son, but Alan's right, you haven't been to Five in a while. I'll send John with you to refresh your memory, but you have the second shift." That said, Jeff patted Scott on the shoulder and walked away fighting a huge grin. Virgil gave up his fight and burst out laughing. Glaring, Scott charged Virgil and put him in a head lock.

An hour later, John arrived back in Thunderbird 3. After his post-flight checks, he grabbed his duffle bag and headed towards the house. Dumping his stuff in his room, he wandered into the lounge to find Jeff looking out the window smiling. "Something entertaining outside?" John asked stepping next to his father.

"Hey, John," Jeff said, embracing his second son, "And to answer your question, yes. Alan and Fermat teamed up against Scott, and he is going to up Five after Gordon. Let's just say, Scott wasn't pleased and Virgil is not letting him live it down. I ordered them out of the house before they broke anything."

"I see," John said, watching Scott dunk Virgil in the pool, "Maybe I should go express my gratitude."

"You have a dark side, John," Jeff said with a sideways glance.

"You got to watch out for the silent ones, we're always plotting," the other blonde Tracy said with a quick grin then ran out to the pool.

"Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said from the kitchen, "Lunch will be ready in a few moments."

"Thank you, Kyrano," Jeff said turning, "I'll get the boys out and dried off for you."

Kyrano nodded with his own smile and returned to the kitchen. A chime in the office drew Jeff's attention, after a quick shout to his three older sons that lunch would be ready soon, he ran to his desk. "This is, Jeff," he answered the call.

"Hey, Dad," Gordon's face came into view, "Just reporting in. Did a system check and weather check. Systems are green, and you guys are looking at a sun, sun, and more sun."

"That's what I like to hear," Jeff smiled, "John made it home not long ago, and Alan called while you were shuttling to Five. Both are good. And Scott will be replacing you in two weeks."

Gordon's eyes widened, "Whoa! What?" He mocked shock, "Field Commander Scott, is taking a shift on Five! Get him to the infirmary STAT, and have a psych evaluation done!"

"It's not like he volunteered," Jeff chuckled, "He was nominated, by none other than his youngest brother and Fermat."

"I knew I liked those two," Gordon smiled, "Has he realized that someone else will be flying his 'Bird for two weeks yet?"

"Actually," Jeff thought, "I don't think he has. I'm sure you'll hear him when he does though."

"You should tape it…I want to see his face!" Gordon begged.

"I don't think so Gordon. Now, I hate to cut this conversation, but lunch is ready," Jeff put a halt to the puppy eyes.

"F.A.B." Gordon said before signing off.


	3. Permissions

The first week of school was pretty easy going. Alan and Fermat grew into the routine of getting up at seven, going to breakfast with Sam and Rob, then going off to classes. At lunch they met up with Sam, DJ, Jake, and Rob then spent their free time knocking off the morning assignments. After their last period, Alan and Fermat went back to their room to work on the rest of their homework before dinner. Dinner they ate with more boys from their classes or out in the evening sun. After dinner, found the roommates throwing a Frisbee with friends or gaming in the first floor game room until dark or curfew.

Friday, they watched as Alan's brothers, the Thunderbirds, rescued a village in Thailand from a mudslide. They cheered excitedly with the rest of the gathered observers as Thunderbird 2 carried the last of the rescued to safer ground. Alan had picked out John as the International Rescue operative manning the rescue platform and glimpsed Scott's tall figure working behind Mobile Control.

When curfew came, all the boys reluctantly filed back to their rooms with a lot of prodding from the hall monitors. Alan waited a little while before calling Jeff. "Hey Dad!" Alan greeted.

"Hey Alan," Jeff returned, "Guessing you saw the rescue?"

"Yup, wanted to make sure everything was as good as it looked," Alan explained.

Jeff chuckled at his youngest predictable comment, "Well, if you're asking whether or not procedure was followed, yes it was. And your brothers are on their way home, ETA one and a half hours for Scott and two and a half for Virgil and John."

"Good. Wouldn't want them slacking without me or Gordo around," Alan jested.

Jeff smiled bigger, "I'm sure you wouldn't. Now, isn't it almost time for you to be in bed?"

"Dad," Alan huffed, "I'm _fourteen_ you don't need to enforce a bed time…the school does it for you," he finished with a roll of his eyes.

"Perhaps, but I still have the right as your father," Jeff mocked seriousness.

Alan just nodded, then remembered something, "Hey, Dad, wait!"

"Yes, Alan?"

"You should be getting an e-mail or something with a permission slip. My art class is going to go to a local park, and then draw the scenery or something," Alan described, "Brains should be getting one for Fermat too. We need them sent back by Monday then we go on Tuesday."

Jeff was already checking his e-mail, and nodded, "Got it right here. Doesn't seem like an hour is enough time to go to a park and get back for your next class."

Alan shook his head, "No, we are leaving at eleven thirty, after a quick lunch then will be back by three. But since most of Fermat's and my art class are in the same gym class the teacher isn't having class that day. And the Spanish teacher approved it so long as we write her a half page of the experience in Spanish and give it to her Wednesday."

Jeff nodded while he listened to Alan and read the slip at the same time, "Alright Alan, you can go. But I also want to see what you create after almost three hours of art class. Then Virg can critique it," Jeff added with a smile.

"Why not just send him out to teach the class…I'm sure the teacher would be beside herself, she has a copy of one of his Kansas landscapes in the classroom," Alan joked.

Jeff signed the slip with his touchsmart data pad, and sent it off to Archer's administration, "Ok, signed and sent. I'll make sure Brains checks his e-mail and tells Fermat his decision."

"'K, thanks Dad!" Alan replied happily, "Say hi to the 'elders' and Gordo for me."

Chuckling, Jeff said he would and the two said goodbye. Alan and Fermat went to bed shortly after.

_**Tracy Island**_

By six thirty, three rescue weary sons had returned to Tracy Island, muddy and sore. Taking pity on them, Jeff spoke, "Go wash up, grab something to eat and then sleep. You did good, we'll debrief after breakfast tomorrow morning. Alan sends his compliments on a job well done and approved of your work," Jeff said with a humorous smile, "Good enough for me, for now."

Scott just shook his head, "Sprout thinks he's in charge now, great!" Virgil nodded in agreement and stifled a yawn. John just waved weakly and stumble towards the kitchen to grab a sandwich then made his way to his room for a hot shower."

"What, you old folk can't stay awake long enough for a 'hi' to your space bound brother!" Gordon said as his face appeared.

"Oh, shut it, Gordon, you didn't just work for three hours through mud and wind," Virgil said defensively before leaving.

"Yeesh," Gordon said looking at his father, "You'd think they didn't do this for a living!"

"Keep it up and they may decide to make you clean all the mud off One and Two," Jeff said sitting down with a sigh. It really was a long rescue, and he had been sitting behind a desk! "You have anything you need to get off your mind right now?"

"Nope, it can wait until tomorrow. But perhaps we should find a way to coat the 'Birds with a mud resistant finish…"

"Goodnight Gordon," Jeff said with a shake of his head.

"'Night Dad."

Jeff reached over his desk and pushed the inter com button, "Kyrano, it's Jeff."

"_Good evening Mr. Tracy,"_ the retainer's voice responded, _"What can I do for you?"_

"Looks like it's just me tonight for dinner. The boys are bushed," Jeff informed.

"_Tin-tin offers to eat with you, so you do not eat alone,"_ came the reply.

Smiling, "That sounds lovely, thank you Tin-tin," Jeff answered.

"_It is my pleasure, Mr. Tracy," _Tin-tin's soft voice came through the speaker.

"The pleasure is mine," Jeff said, "When and what is for dinner?"

A lilting laugh came before Tin-tin's response, _"Seven thirty, Mr. Tracy. As for what dinner is, it will be a surprise! But dress semi-formal."_

"Yes, ma'am," Jeff chuckled and left to prepare for dinner.

Seven thirty came around, and Jeff walked into the dining room. The table was spread with a mix of oriental and seafood dishes and elegant candles gave a soft ambiance. Jeff took his seat at the head of the table, and waited for Tin-tin. A few minutes later, Tin-tin entered wearing a light blue summer dress and her hair braided to one side, with a pink flower on the opposite side. "Well, Tin-tin," Jeff stood upon seeing her, "I feel under dressed," gesturing to his white dress shirt, simple black dress pants, and blue silk tie.

Tin-tin just laughed, "Mr. Tracy, you look just fine. If you clean up this good, I must wonder how your sons do." The residents of the island knew Tin-tin and Alan were bound to end up being a couple, it was just a matter of getting around teenage hormones.

"I would tell you, but I don't know myself," Jeff laughed, as he pulled out her chair on his right.

The dinner as relaxing and happy. Tin-tin knew how to cheer up the weary leader of International Rescue and Jeff appreciated her for it.


	4. Strategy Meeting

Saturday morning, Fermat slept in a little later, and got up just before Alan. Checking his e-mail, Fermat, saw that his father had wrote him:

_Fermat,_

_Mr. Tracy informed me of the art trip. I would rather you did not miss Spanish class, but I also do not want you to miss out on the art excursion. Call me when you get the chance, and we can discuss it._

_Love you,_

_Dad_

Fermat sighed and wrote back:

_Dad,_

_Either way I miss a class, but the art teacher has an alternate assignment if you want me to not miss Spanish. I will call you after lunch here._

_Love you too,_

_Fermat_

"Hey Fermat," Alan yawned from his top bunk, "What time is it?"

"I-it is a-a-almost n-n-nine. W-want to g-get br-br-br-food soon?"

Alan climbed down from his bed, "Sure, let me just get dressed."

Ten minutes later, the duo left Marx Hall and made their way to the cafeteria. Grabbing a plate of eggs and toast and a juice box each, the friends surveyed the dining area. They saw Jake waving them over, so went to sit with him. "Morning, sleepy heads," DJ greeted.

"G-g-good m-morning, DJ," Fermat returned, "J-jake."

"Hey Fermat," Jake returned.

"And we are not sleepy heads," Alan defended, "We were just capitalizing on the fact that it is a Saturday morning. A day for late mornings, at least for me. Fermat is always up before me."

"Whatever you say, island boy," DJ retorted and shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth.

"What time do you usually get up, Fermat?" Jake asked.

"S-seven th-thirty or e-e-eight," Fermat answered, "I l-like to ch-check e-mails e-e-early."

"Time zones make talking to our parents interesting. We're going to bed as they get ready for dinner. Lunch here and they are barely getting up," Alan explained between bites, _not to mention rescues interrupt that tentative schedule also…_

"I can imagine," DJ mused," Glad I'm in the same state, I can call anytime almost, cause they are also most likely awake."

"Except for six am practices," Jake added, "Those are going to be killer!"

"Man, that does suck," Alan said, dreading just the thought of getting up _before_ the sun!

"W-w-what a-are you t-t-t-both up t-to t-today?" Fermat stuttered.

"We were going to finish off homework, than chill some. Sam and Rob were thinking of ultimate Frisbee this afternoon. Want to join us?"

"I n-need to c-c-call my D-dad," Fermat answered, "I-I c-could w-w-w-observe th-though."

"What time we looking at to play?" Alan asked, finishing off his juice

"Uh, it's ten now," Jake said look at his phone, "What three hours for homework?" DJ nodded, "Probably about two or two thirty; gives us time to change and snack."

"Who else is going to join in?"

"Whoever, I think Jack and Paul from Algebra were interested, then we see if anyone else is interested when we get out there," Jake supplied.

"Sounds like fun, I'll finish off my own homework then just wait around maybe call home also," Alan said thoughtfully.

DJ nodded, "Alright, we'll knock on your door, when we're leaving." The four boys nodded and stood up, returning their trays before heading for their hall.

Once in their room, Alan went to his desk and pulled out some binders, "Hey, Fermat, can you help me with my math and science assignments?"

"S-sure Alan," Fermat smiled, getting his notebooks as well, "I'll c-call Dad a-a-after tw-twelve thirty."

"Yeah, he would probably be up then. While the Tracy elders rock the house with snores," Alan joked.

Laughing at the thought, both friends settled into complete their last assignments.

At quarter of one, Fermat dialed his father's lab. "B-brains h-here," Hiram Hackenbacker answered the call.

"H-hey Dad!" Fermat greeted.

"S-s-son! H-how are y-you?"

"Good. D-d-done w-with h-h-h-assignments," Fermat smiled, "J-just c-calling about t-the ar-ar-ar-class t-trip Tuesday."

"Ah. L-let me g-g-g-pull that u-up," Brains nodded and began typing at the computer, "H-h-here it i-is." Brains began scanning the permission slip nodding to himself, "I-is Alan, th-there?"

"Yeah, Brains," Alan said from the side, "Right here."

"W-w-what did y-your f-f-f-dad h-have t-to say?"

Moving in closer to the screen, Alan replied, "He signed off on it, so long as I sent him a copy of my work and let Virgil critique it," he smiled.

"Hmmm, w-well, Fermat, w-w-what would y-y-you l-like to d-do? Sp-spanish or ar-art?" Brains looked over at his son.

"Ar-art. Our Sp-sp-sp-language t-teacher has an al-alternate as-as-assignment," Fermat reasoned.

"Al-alright, Fermat, I-I'm s-signing and s-s-sending t-the f-f-f-slip," Brains matched his words with action.

"Th-thanks, Dad!" Fermat beamed, "W-want m-me to s-s-send my w-w-work t-t-t-as well?"

"I'm s-s-sure Virgil w-would l-l-l-enjoy s-seeing it, as w-w-would I, s-son," Brains nodded with a smile.

"Ok-k, Dad," Fermat grinned, "T-talk to y-y-you l-later."

"Di-di-di-same h-here," Brains waved, then disconnected.

"Think Gordon would be awake, yet?" Alan wondered aloud.

"I d-d-don't know. M-m-maybe, why?"

"Got to plan a prank for when Scott goes up to Five," Alan grinned deviously. Turning to his own computer, he dialed up Gordon, "Hey, Gordo! Wake up!"

A minute later a bedraggled Gordon came on the screen, "W'at?" A jaw popping yawn cut off any other attempt at words.

"Wakey, wakey," Alan sing-songed, "We got to have a Terrible Two plus One strategy meeting!"

"Al," Gordon yawned again, "You do realize…that it's not even…eight up here right?"

"Come on, Gordon! Where's your sense of _youth_, you're starting to sound like an elder!"

Snapping to attention, Gordon mock glared at his only baby brother, "Take it back!"

"I-it was pr-pr-pretty c-close, Gordon," Fermat backed Alan.

"Alright, alright," Gordon threw up his hands, "Why are you calling a strategy meeting? None of us are even home."

"But someone will be replacing you, right?" Alan winked.

"Taking on the oldest elder, hmmmm, I'm listening," Gordon rubbed his chin in thought, "Johnny will most likely run Scooter up, then give a refresher course. And Johnny wouldn't want to have a mess on Five."

"I th-think y-you s-should l-l-leave d-dye in t-the sh-sh-shampoo," Fermat suggested.

"That would require an earthbound third party. Virgie is a likely candidate," Gordon said deep in thought.

"We can't mess with the systems, for two reasons, Johnny would spot it a mile away and Dad would have our hides if it interfered with rescues," Alan removed an option.

"B-best n-not to a-anger e-either one," Fermat agreed.

"I like the hair dye, but professionalism is important up here," Gordon drummed his fingers on the consol.

Alan, who was tapping his chin, grinned hugely, "Got it! We short-sheet him! Two weeks of short sheets will be an annoyance—"

"I-it w-would make Scott, m-m-m-angry," Fermat cautioned.

Gordon was nodding with his own smile, "We can leave a second set of sheets and tell him about them after a week. That gives him a week to cool down, and us to plan strategic avoidance for another week or so."

"Operation Angry Elder," Alan put his hand in front of the computer.

"I-is a-ago!" Fermat said putting his own hand on top of Alan's.

"Team Terrible Two plus One, execute!" Gordon said, holding his hand in front of his own computer.

After a pause, the three threw their hands in the air and crowed. "Alright, team, in two weeks' time we will have the fruits of out labor realized," Gordon stated, "Now if you don't mind. Some of us still need breakfast, and more importantly, coffee, before a grueling debrief of yesterday's rescue. Talk to you two later."

"Bye, Gordon," Alan and Fermat said together before the screen went black.


	5. Curious Clouds

Sunday was mostly spent outside in the warm sun. Alan went on a run with Jake and DJ, while Fermat, Sam, and Rob read under a tree or played chess. After dinner they spent some time with other residents of Marx Hall in the game room.

Monday brought the same lack of energy routine that all Mondays held. Alan dragged himself out of bed and ate half asleep. Fermat walking beside him so he didn't collide with any people…or trees. Their art teacher gave them a brief overview of what was expected on the field trip the next day, including supplies, conduct, and ideas for what to sketch/draw/paint. Their Spanish teacher also handed out her requirements for the writing assignment to the students that would miss the class. Alan and Fermat made sure to have all their homework done for the next day, so there was less to make up.

Tuesday morning, Alan was actually out of bed early, and eager for the day to start. He was excited about the prospect of leaving the campus; even if it was school related. Fermat could only share in his best friend's enthusiasm, so the two went to breakfast early, and ate with Sam and Rob. The day dragged through each hour period of the morning. When lunch finally arrived, Alan, Fermat, Jake, and Rob bolted down a quick meal; barely tasting the pulled pork sandwiches. Hurrying out to the administration build, where they would meet the bus, they found themselves fifteen minutes early. "Well, Gentlemen, seems you four are ready to go," their teacher smiled at them.

"Yes, ma'am," Rob spoke for them, "Haven't been off the grounds since we got here."

"The idea of 'freedom'," Alan surrounded the word with air quotes, "Is exciting."

"W-we are al-also ex-ex-ex-happy to g-get to dr-dr-dr-sketch a di-di-different s-s-scenery," Fermat quickly added.

The teacher laughed, "Well, I'm glad some of my student are excited to go!"

Over the next ten minutes the class began to assemble, and the bus arrived. Taking roll as they boarded the bus, the teacher was the last to board. Nodding to the bus driver, who then closed the door and started off for the park.

They reached the park at 11:50, and before everyone split off, the teacher gave final instructions, "Gentlemen, I expect your best behavior. Remember this is a privilege," all the gathered boys nodded, "Right, now split off, work alone, but within sight of the bus. I will walk around and check your progress. Remember you can draw whatever you wish, but I will expect reasoning for how you viewed different things and why you drew the way you drew. We will reconvene at the bus at two fifteen. Now off with you!"

Alan and Fermat walked over towards the edge of the park. Fermat sat under a tree and gazed around, trying to decide what to draw. Alan chose to sit on a rock wall near the hiking trail. He could see Fermat's back and Jake a little ways off, but was otherwise on his own. Looking around, he decided to draw a tree close up, with the clouds curiously shaped. He wanted the eye drawn to the tree, but if anyone looked close they could make out five distinct shapes that vaguely looked like Thunderbirds, but were also hidden by other more normal clouds.

The teacher reached Alan a little after one o'clock and was very pleased with his work. Leaving him to his devices, she wondered to Fermat, then to Jake, and on to another student.

_**Tracy Island**_

The klaxon rang throughout the house, Scott, John, and Virgil dropped what they were doing and ran for their father's office.

"Boys, we have an avalanche in the Rockies near Boulder, Colorado," Jeff explained, even as the office became Command and Control.

"There is a ski resort that was surrounded by the snow, trapping multiple guest and families," Gordon informed from the video screen, "The slopes were closed off today because of a high avalanche risk, and so no one is known to have been caught in the snow."

"Right," Scott said as he stepped to his picture, "Gordon, send the coordinates to my 'Bird, I'll be there in an hour."

Jeff turned to John and Virgil, "Take Two and bring the Mole with you."

"Would the Thunderiser be an option, father?" John asked as Virgil disappeared down his picture.

Jeff shook his head, "I had thought of that, but I don't want to risk setting off another avalanche."

"F.A.B" John said as he to rode down to the Thunderbird hangers.

"Thunderbird One requesting to launch," Scott sounded over a radio.

"Granted," Jeff said even as he felt the engines of TB 1 strain to lift the jet into the air.

"Thunderbird 2, ready to launch, request permission," Virgil called in next.

"You are go for launch, Virgil," Jeff replied, "What is your ETA?"

"ETA two hours, maybe sooner."

"Thunderbirds are go!" Jeff said as he watched the green giant take to the air.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five and Base," Scott checked in.

"Reading you loud and clear," Gordon answered.

"How close are you, Scott?" Jeff asked.

"On final approach now. It looks like the resort roof is above ground, and some people are on it. Unknown condition of the buried levels," Scott informed as he gauged where to land.

"Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One," Virgil radioed.

"Thunderbird One here, go ahead," Scott replied as he completed his landing and started to lock down TB 1.

"ETA fourty-five minutes, John will be ready with the Mole, for immediate action"

"Sounds good, Virg," Scott responded, "Soon as he is out, I want you to get the people on the roof. Send down the platform, I will make sure they know what to do before you get here."

"F.A.B."

Scott exited Thunderbird One carrying the Mobile Command. Finalizing the lock up of his 'Bird, he turned to greet the lead rescue worker, "International Rescue," Scott held out his hand.

"Chief Herdy, Thank you for coming," Herdy shook Scott's hand.

"I need to set up a Mobil Command," Scott said gesturing to his equipment, the Chief nodded and led him over to an open tent with more rescue personnel. "My coworkers will arrive in little over half an hour. The tentative plans so far is to unload our digging machine then send Thunderbird 2 to get those trapped on the roof."

"We have radio contact with the roof as of right now. A runner went down as far as level five and cleared out through level ten to the roof. We have been able to get little over half the trapped off the roof, that leaves roughly thirty still on the roof. Reports say that guest on the ground and second level of the resort got out before the avalanche buried it. Levels three, four, and part of five still have another thirty-five trapped. Thankfully this was a slow weekend, or we would have been to pulling out a few hundred instead of the hundred today."

Scott nodded, surveying the scene, "I need to tell the thirty still on the roof what to do when Two goes to pick them up. Then I'll need to know how stable the building is, looks like our digger will have to go through the snow and possibly the outer wall to reach those trapped on third through fifth floor."

Fifteen minutes later, Scott had relayed to the roof that the platform could hold ten people at a time. Three trips and they would all be returned to safety. Shortly after Thunderbird 2 came in for a quick landing.

"Thunderbird 2 from Mobil Command," Scott called.

"Thunderbird Two here," John responded, "Ready to unload the Mole."

"Okay, but I want you to get back on Two and help Virgil with the platform and the roof rescue," Scott said.

"F.A.B." John said, "Can I ask why the change of plan?"

"The roof holds roughly thirty people, and I want someone to control who gets on and when, last thing we need is panic and fighting. You are a calming presence John, I want you to handle them."

"Throw me to the wolves, why don't you?" John deadpanned, "Alright, soon as the Mole is unloaded, I'll get back in Two; don't leave without me Virgil!"

"Acknowledge," Virgil answered, "That mean you got the Mole, Scott?" TB 2 landed and the Mole started to disembark as he spoke.

"You got that right," Scott said, waiting for Virgil to lift off again. Turning to Herdy, Scott spoke, "Can I borrow one of your men, to help me with the trapped in the resort?"

"Certainly," the chief responded, turning around and calling over one of his personnel.


	6. Appreciated Qualities

**A/N:** Here is were things start to get disturbing...sorry...twisted and sick mind came up with this story and then i couldn't get it out until i wrote it down...

* * *

><p>The first thing Alan noticed was his pounding head. Second he noticed that he was laying on a hard and unforgiving surface. Shaking his head, with a groan, to try and clear it, he tried to remember what had happened. At first all he had was flashes, but after a few minutes it all came back with a rush:<p>

_FLASH BACK—_

_Alan had been making additional marks to his tree. Everything else was done, and he was just killing time until it was time to leave. He was so absorbed in his picture; he didn't hear someone coming up behind him._

_Suddenly, a strong arm was holding him in a choke hold and a cloth that smelt like rubbing alcohol was being held over his mouth and nose by another hand. Alan struggled for as long as he could, but he soon found that he was weakening. Just before dropping off into unconsciousness, he felt himself being picked up like a rag doll. Then he knew no more._

—_END FLASHBACK_

Bolting into a sitting position, Alan tried to move. He found that his arms were bound tightly behind his back; his forearms were tied together, one atop the other, with his elbows bent at right angles. Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw only darkness. Alan could feel a soft cloth on his face, tied firmly around his head.

As his heart beat faster and his breath quickened, Alan missed the sound of a lock clicking and door opening silently.

A man – of average height with dark brown hair that hung in a loose pony tail at his neck, intense green eyes that caught every detail, and built like someone that took care of their body and worked out often – entered the room. He watched as the boy before him went from a panicked struggle to tense to trying to escape his bonds.

Walking, with silent footsteps, towards the blonde boy, the man squatted down at eye level in front of him. "The more you struggle," the man's calm tenor began, "the tighter the bonds will become."

Alan instantly whipped his head towards the voice and stopped straining against the ropes. Taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself, Alan waited for the voice to talk again. Minutes passed with the only sounds being the breathing from the two occupants of the small room. After another ten minutes, the man spoke again, "Good to see you listen," standing to his full height, the man looked down at Alan. "What say we get you off the floor?"

Alan just stayed quiet, thinking to himself, _what does this guy want? Does he expect me to answer? Don't really want to anger him until I know the situation, but how else am I going to find out…_ His thoughts were cut off as the man unexpectedly hauled him to his feet. Tensing in the strong grip that held him, Alan tried to pull away.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the man said, leading Alan towards a different part of the room, "You are just going to make me lots of money." With that he gently, but forcefully, turned Alan and sat him down into a chair.

As Alan heard the man sit down in another chair not far away, he found his voice, "So what? Is this a kidnap-ransom? Not very original."

The man cracked a small smile, even though Alan couldn't see it, "Partly, but there are other components to it as well."

"Other components?" Alan asked, getting more nervous.

"We'll leave out the details for now," the man said sternly, "Right now, all you need to know is that you and I will be together for a while. So, you may as well call me something, any preference?"

"Uh…how about let me go?"

"Good one," the man snorted, "But I don't think that one would work well. Can you hear yourself asking 'Let-me-go, can I have some water?' or 'do you have the time, Let-me-go?' It just doesn't roll off the tongue. Got another?"

Sighing to himself, Alan didn't see the point in not coming up with a name. "Okay, how does Geoffrey, with a 'G', sound?"

"Too preppy."

"Seriously? Why don't you just give me a name to use then?" Alan said with huff, shifting into a more comfortable position; or at least trying to.

"Giving up already?" The tenor mocked.

"No," Alan grumbled, "Just not really in the mood. Headaches combined with being blindfolded and tied up do that to me. Oh, and don't forget being kidnapped!"

"Fair enough," the man said, "You can call me Billy."

"Billy? Didn't want something to instill fear?"

Billy replied with a smirk, "I don't need a name that is intimidating, kid. 'Billy' serves its purpose and it isn't my real name."

"Alright…Billy…could you let me go now?" Alan tried not to plead, but this whole situation was tiring and he just wanted to go home!

"No," Billy's voice said emotionlessly, as he stood up and walk towards Alan, "Like I said you are going to make me money, one way or another. For now, let's get you more comfortable." With that, Billy once again pulled Alan to his feet, "Stand here," he ordered.

Billy pulled the chair Alan had been sitting in, to the middle of the room, facing a video camera attached to a computer. Then we walked back over to Alan, and led him to the seat. After forcing the blonde to sit, Billy grabbed some more rope, and tied his ankles to the chair.

Alan put up some resistance, but there was little he could do with arms tied and being blindfolded combined with Billy's obvious strength; he soon found himself not being able to move his feet. "I thought you said we were getting me more comfortable," Alan deadpanned, uselessly trying to kick out his leg.

"We are," Billy said, moving behind Alan, "Just couldn't have you running around while I undid your arms." That said, Alan felt the ropes on his forearms loosen then fall away. As if sensing Alan's intent, Billy grabbed his arms, "Don't even think about throwing a punch…or taking off the blindfold." Billy then released his hold, and Alan slowly brought his arms and hands forward; rubbing feeling back into the limbs. "Better?" Alan solemnly nodded. "Good. But gotta tie them again," suddenly Billy grabbed Alan's right wrist and lashed it quickly to the arm of the chair. Grabbing the left wrist, he secured that one as well.

Alan tried pulling at the ropes holding his arms, but, like all the others, the ropes were too strong and too tight. "Now that I'm comfortable," Alan said flatly, "Want to tell me what you're planning?"

"I guess I could explain part of it," Billy said, turning on the camera and setting up the computer. "I don't know if you know this, but blonde hair and blue eyes are a highly…appreciated," Billy pondered the word, "set of qualities. There are a lot of people that would pay a lot of money for that combination. Mix that with your age, and the money is even better." Here, Billy paused, gauging Alan's reaction. Alan was just confused, and frowned to show it. "Guess you may be too innocent to really understand right away, "Billy mused, "Another reason your age is special."

Walking over to grab his chair, Billy rolled it over to the computer and sat down. "For now, let's leave it as, at fourteen, you still have the innocence of a child, but are also becoming rebellious. It is a tender age for you, but a cherished age for some adults to watch."

"What are you talking about? You're just going in circles!" Alan was now thoroughly confused, and started to struggle again; not liking how Billy kept bringing up his age.

"Stop struggling, boy," Billy ordered.

"Not until you start making sense," Alan raised his voice, all the while thinking, _I just want to go home!_

Billy stood up and stalked over to Alan. Grabbing Alan's arms roughly, he gave a forceful shake. "I will explain, boy, if you stop struggling," Billy said darkly, not loosening his grip until Alan stopped fighting. Alan remained tense as Billy released his hold, "Good boy." Returning to his seat, Billy calmed himself as he watched Alan tense frame shake slightly. "I'm sure you know that the world has a dark side, and not all humans are good company," Billy watched Alan give curt nod, "Well, I'm a bridge for part of the darker side. There are adults in this world that find pleasure in young children. As I said before, blonde hair, blue eyes, and fourteen is a good combination of qualities to appeal to some of those adults." Alan began to shake his head slowly as comprehension began to come. "Yes, boy," Billy said softly, "You are going to make me money by being sold to the highest bidder."

_Nononono NO! This is _wrong_! People don't so this to each other!_ Alan tried to convince himself this was a horrible nightmare. "No, no, no, no," Alan muttered over and over. His heart ached with despair and he couldn't stop the few tears that fell in fear; this once, he was thankful for the cloth that covered his eyes and subsequent tears.

Billy kept one eye on the shaking blonde and the other on his work. He made final adjustments to the website, and was finally ready to open the bidding. First he need to calm the boy. "Boy," Billy said walking towards Alan, "Boy," he repeated, putting a hand on Alan's shoulder. Alan flinched under the touch, and Billy could feel the tremors increase in intensity, "Boy," he said a little louder and squeezed the shoulder.

Alan stopped muttering 'no' but also tried to pull away from the hand holding him. Setting his jaw and taking a deep breath, Alan spoke with more confidence than he felt, "If, you are going to do this, at least have the decency to use my _name_, which is not 'boy'."

Billy was impressed by the show of confidence, so acquiesced with the request, "Alright, what is your name than?"

Another deep breath, "Alan," was his response, "Alan Tracy." _Maybe that will scare him away. Probably didn't even know he took American Hero Jefferson Tracy's son_.

"Tracy," Billy muttered, "interesting." Returning to his chair, Billy regarded Alan with a calculating look. "Alright, Alan," he spoke up after a few minutes, "I have a proposition for you."


	7. Notifications

Back at the park, Fermat was worried. The class was getting ready to board the bus, but Alan was nowhere to be found. Walking up to his teacher, Fermat got her attention, "M-ma'am, I c-c-can't f-find Alan."

Casting a worried glance at Fermat then scanning the group of boys, she noticed his absence. Looking off towards where she had seen him working, she didn't see him there either. "Alright, Fermat, when was the last time you saw him?" She questioned.

Jake walked up at this time, followed by Rob. "H-he w-was on t-t-the w-w-w-fence," Fermat's stutter getting worse with anxiety.

"I saw him over there a little before one thirty," Jake offered. Rob nodded that he too had seen Alan then.

"Ok, boys, let's not panic," She said quietly turning to the bus driver and another chaperone, "Get the rest of the students onto the bus. We have to find Alan, seems he hasn't been seen for a while now." The other two adults shared worried glances then nodded. "It's two twenty now, so Alan hasn't been seen for almost an hour," The art teacher said aloud as the other chaperone came back. The bus driver was staying on the bus to keep the other students calm and calling the school. "Let's look around quickly, Sherry," she said looking at her colleague, "Take Jake and Rob, and look in the restrooms then the pavilion. I'll take Fermat and look over by the wall. Hopefully he is just sitting out of view."

With a set plan, the two groups hurried off. As Fermat and his teacher reached the wall, they called out, "Alan! It's time get going."

Looking around, Fermat's breath caught in his throat, "M-m-ma'am! A-Alan's sk-sk-sketch b-b-b-pad!"

The teacher whipped around and saw Alan's sketchpad laying upside-down in the dirt. Picking it up, she cast a glance around the area. The ground looked scuffed up like someone had been kicking it or shuffling their feet. "Fermat," she called, seeing the young boy's distress, "You need to stay calm. It will be okay. He could have just needed to go to the restrooms in a hurry." It was a weak argument, but gave Fermat some hope; until his eye was drawn to the rock wall.

Pointing, Fermat said in a small voice, "T-t-there's h-his ph-ph-ph-cell! And w-w-watch!" A closer look revealed his wallet was sitting on the other side of the wall, _without his watch or phone, we can't get a lock on him!_ Fermat thought sadly; thinking of their IR watches that had emergency features, like a distress beacon.

The art teacher quickly pulled out her phone and called the police. Wishful thinking was going out the window fast. "Fermat, I want you to go back to the bus and tell the driver what is going on. Then you and I will wait for the police while the rest of the students head back to school, got it?"

"Y-y-yes, m-ma'am," Fermat said sadly, "W-w-we sh-should c-c-call h-his d-d-d-father too."

"Yes we should," The teacher agreed, "But we need to follow school policy. The administration needs to decide what to do."

Fermat nodded his head, but thought, _I am going to call no matter what! Mr. Tracy needs to know!_

_**Tracy Island**_

All of the Tracy's and Brains were sitting in Jeff's office, debriefing from the avalanche rescue. "Scott, did you really have to drill into the wall?" Gordon said humorously.

"Yes," Scott glared, "I did! How else were we supposed to get in there!"

Jeff just shook his head, amused, "Gordon lay off. And Scott, please tell me you told the resort we would pay for damages."

"I took care of that, Dad," John said raising his hand, "Scott here was too busy listening to Virgil's ranting."

"Well deserved ranting," Virgil retorted, "An open window would have sufficed!"

"A-a-actually," Brains cut in, "T-the w-w-windows w-w-would not h-h-have allowed f-f-for a f-f-f-quick enough e-e-evacuation."

"Thank you Brains!" Scott threw his hands up.

"Alright," Jeff smiled, "We'll let it go now," he said with a stern look at all of his sons.

"Yes, Father," was the solemn reply from four mouths.

"Good," Jeff gave a curt nod, "Then this meeting is over. Go freshen up and get some food."

As they left, Scott, John, and Virgil responded with "F.A.B."

Gordon stayed on the screen a little longer, "Dad, you hear from Alan? I'm sure he saw that rescue on the news."

"Actually, today he wouldn't have," Jeff said looking at his only red headed son, "He had an art field trip and will only be getting back to school in a little while." Before Gordon to reply, a chime from the vid-phone signaled a call coming in, "That's probably him now," Jeff said, saying good-bye to Gordon. "Jeff Tracy," he answered the call.

"Mr. Tracy," a woman's face lit up the screen, "I am sorry to be calling you at this hour."

"That is quite alright," Jeff reassured, "I've been up for a while now. What can I do for you?"

"I am the Assistant Dean of Student Affairs here at Archer's," she introduced, "I'm afraid I have some troubling news."

Jeff felt his heart skip a beat, _Alan!_ "Is Alan in trouble?"

"Not with the school, Mr. Tracy," a look from Jeff told her not to beat around the bush, "Sir, it would seem…it would seem that your son has been kidnapped."

"What?" Jeff sat up, "What do you mean?"

"While on his art class trip, Alan disappeared," she hesitantly explained, "A few of his friends said they hadn't seen him for the last hour and when they looked around for him, they found his phone, watch, and wallet where he was last seen."

"Wasn't anyone watching him?" Jeff raised his voice; part in worry, part in anger.

"Mr. Tracy," she said looking down, "I am sorry. The point of the trip was to let the boys draw on their own. His teacher had checked on him halfway through the class, but believes that art is better done without someone looking over your shoulder." Taking a deep breath she look Jeff in the eyes, "She is now at the park, with a young Mr. Hackenbacker, talking with the police. Whoever took your son, knew when to grab him, but has made no contact with the school. The police ask that you stay at home, in case they try to reach you."

Jeff's heart ached with worry, _my baby boy! Please, God, keep him safe!_ He prayed. Finding his voice, Jeff responded, "I will stay. But I am sending one of my other sons to Vermont," he held up a hand to stop any protests, "No, my oldest, Scott, will be there in a few hours and will stay there until Alan is found. Fermat's father will also be coming, to either bring Fermat back here, or comfort him, that will be his choice." Jeff paused, letting the woman absorb the order, "Now of you don't mind, I would like this line clear. I want to be updated with any news, so call the secondary number in Alan's file." With that Jeff disconnected the call, leaving no room for argument.

Pushing the klaxon alarm to bring everyone to him, Jeff waited for everyone to assemble. Gordon came onto the screen almost immediately, wondering why his father had called an emergency. Jeff told him to wait for his brothers before he would explain. Five minutes later, Scott and Virgil came in with wet hair and damp clothes, John following close behind with an apple. Brains came back a minute later, breathing hard.

"Scott, soon as we are done here, you are going to prep Tracy One. John you are going to get Gordon and set Five into automatic relay," Jeff said once everyone was settled.

"What's this all about, Dad?" Virgil asked, worry lacing his words.

Closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, Jeff steadied himself. Opening his eyes and looking at all his sons, he explained, "Alan has…has been kidnapped." He barely managed to say the words.

Silence filled the room, everyone processing the information. Out in the hall, Tin-tin gasped, entering the room she looked at Jeff with silent tears. "When?" Scott's hard voice broke the silence

"During a class trip," Jeff said, looking to Brains when the scientist gasped, "Fermat is okay, Brains, just shaken up." Brains nodded sadly in response, "Scott, you are going to Archer's to follow the investigation. Brains, you're going with him, to either bring Fermat back here or stay and keep him calm. Gordon you'll be coming down so the Thunderbirds aren't so short-handed." Jeff stopped any protests by raising a hand, "We still have a responsibility as International Rescue. And while I would rather shut down temporarily, we all know Alan wouldn't want that." Reluctant nods from everyone told Jeff that he had forestalled complaints.

"I want to get going a.s.a.p.," Scott said standing.

"Go ahead, Scott" Jeff nodded, "You and Brains get ready to leave." Tin-tin was still standing at the door, and when Scott passed her he gave her a quick embrace. "Tin, why don't you go lay down for a while," Jeff softly suggested.

Tin-tin shook her head, "No, Mr. Tracy, I want to help. I need to do something," she pleaded.

"You can come pick up Gordon with me," John offered, pulling her down on the couch next to him.

Jeff nodded, "Sounds good. Then because we are going to be short-handed, you may need to pick up some slack as a Thunderbird." Tin-tin nodded her head that was resting on John's shoulder; Virgil was rubbing her back gently. "Virg, you are going to be Field Commander while Scott's away."

"Yes, Father," Virgil sad softly. Looking at Gordon, he saw his next youngest brother was fighting his own tears, "Hey Gordo, when you get down here, we'll go over supplies and equipment."

Gordon wiped at his eyes, and gave a small smile at Virgil's offer of distraction, "'Cause that is my idea of fun."

"John, Tin-tin," Jeff said, "Why don't you get to Thunderbird Three and head up to Five?" They both nodded, and left the office.

"Tracy One, requesting clearance," Scott radioed in.

"Granted," Jeff replied, "And Scott?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Bring Alan home."

"Not coming back until I have him," Scott promised, his voice held an edge to it.


	8. No Choice

"You're going to have my dad bid on me?" Alan asked incredulous after hearing Billy's offer, "Just to raise the bids?"

"There's more to it than that," Billy countered, "It gives him the chance to get you back. If one of the other bidders win, there is little to no chance you will see him again."

Alan's jaw was hanging open, "There shouldn't be any chance for any of this! I should only have to be worrying about stupid school!" Alan began to futilely pull at the ropes holding him to the chair; it was better than just sitting there.

"That hasn't been an option since I took you from the park," Billy said flatly, "Now either tell me how to contact your father, so he can be a part of this auction, or lose all chance of going home." Billy watched as Alan continued his feeble attempts to undo the rope, "I don't have all day, Alan."

"Fine," Alan ground out, "You'll probably catch him at home. What time is it here?"

"Why do you need to know?" Billy asked.

"Because, home is in the tropics, in a very different time zone!" Alan growled, "If it's before lunch here, home is sleeping."

"Then it's past dinner here," Billy said vaguely.

"That puts is early afternoon," Alan said to himself, "Call his office." He then gave Billy the number for the video phone; explaining that a computer with a webcam would allow for video chat.

Billy decided that could work for him, he just wouldn't be in the screen, Alan would be. "Here how it's going to work," Billy said standing and opening a box on the desk and removing something, "I'll do all the talking, but he will be looking at you." Walking over to Alan's position, "Open your mouth," he commanded.

"Wh—" Alan was cut off as Billy put a gag in his mouth and secured it behind his head.

"Because, I needed to make sure you wouldn't talk," Billy stated simply patting Alan's shoulder. Walking back to his chair, Billy dialed up Tracy residence, listening to the muffled and undistinguishable sounds coming from then bound blonde. As the call rang, he watched Alan trying to get the gag out and pulling at his arms again. Billy just sighed and shook his head.

_**Tracy Island**_

John, Tin-tin, Gordon were returning from Five, and would be back within an hour. Scott had called to say he and Brains had landed and had an hour and a half drive to reach Archer's. Virgil was sitting with him in the office, while Kyrano prepared a light meal for everyone.

The ringing from the vid-phone drew the two Tracy men from their thoughts. A quick glance at Virgil, who got up and stood behind him, Jeff answered the call, "Tracy residence."

"_Hello, Mr. Tracy,"_ a tenor voice was heard, but all the Tracy's could see was a blindfolded Alan tied to a chair with a ball-gag in his mouth. Their hearts skipped a beat as they watched him try to pull at the ropes holding him. _"Alan, why don't you say 'hello'."_

Alan stopped struggling and raised his face to 'look' straight ahead, into the camera. "Alan!" Virgil called out, "You okay, Sprout?" Alan's head tipped to the side, like he was trying to figure out who spoke, then he tentatively nodded his head.

"What do you want?" Jeff demanded.

"_I'm glad you asked!"_ the voice said, _"I don't normally do this, but Alan here has convinced me to give you a chance."_

"What is that supposed to mean?" Virgil growled.

They heard a chuckle, _"You must be a brother, you and Alan sound very alike," _The voice taunted_. "Let me explain. Alan here is going up for auction," _Jeff and Virgil saw Alan visibly shutter at the word,_ "As I told your son, blonde hair, blue eyes, and fourteen years old are a very valued set of characteristics."_

Jeff felt nauseous, "You can't be serious," hoping his assumption was wrong.

"_Oh, I am _very_ serious, Mr. Tracy. Alan is going to make me a lot of money. But as I said, he convinced me to give you this offer,"_ the voice paused, letting everything sink in, _"You will be able to bid for your son."_

Virgil's jaw dropped open, and he watched in dismay and Alan shook again. Jeff felt his heart go to his throat and caught his breath. "Why put him through that?" Jeff reasoned, "I can and will pay whatever you want. You get your money and I get Alan."

"_I wish it were so simple,"_ the man mocked, _"But I promised quite a few people the opportunity to obtain a young boy like Alan here. And I can't back out on them now. But if you bid against them, they will still view me as a man of my word; something very important to me and my business."_

"He isn't a piece of property!" Virgil found his voice, "He is a _fourteen_ year old kid!" Alan winced at the emotion in Virgil's voice.

"Virgil, calm down," Jeff said quietly then turned his attention back to his youngest. He could hear muffled sounds coming from Alan, but the gag kept anything from escaping.

_**Alan's room**_

Alan could hear the pain, love, and fear in his middle brother's voice. _Oh Virgie! Can't you be here? I want to go home!_ Alan wanted to be embraced by Virgil and his father so bad right now, he barely noticed that he was trying to tell them how much he loved them; but the gag was preventing any of his words from being understood.

"To you, he may not be a piece of property," Billy sneered, "But to me and my customers, Alan is something to be sold or bought."

Alan heard a deep sigh come through the video feed, then his dad's tired voice, _"I see I have no choice but to play along with your game."_

"Believe me, Mr. Tracy, this is no game," Billy countered, "This is your son's fate: either a happy one at home with family or one of unknown outcomes; really depends on who wins the bid."

"_Let me speak with Alan," _Jeff was almost pleading.

"I'm sorry," Billy didn't sound sincere, "But I can't do that. Maybe at a later hour. But for now, you need to get ready for the auction." Billy then told Jeff what site to go to, and how to set up a bidding account. Then he disconnected the call turned back to Alan.

Alan had held in his tears, so his father and brother would see them, but know he them fall. Silent sobs raking his body. He heard, Billy walking towards him, and tried to pull away when Billy put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to taking the gag off now, Alan," doing as he said, "I'll give your father an hour to set up his account, then the auction begins with or without him."

Alan just worked the tension out of his jaw and didn't respond, _he only needs half that time! Just get this over with!_ Alan thought angrily.

"While we wait," Billy started, "Let's get some food into you." With little pause, Billy grabbed the back of Alan's chair and dragged in over to the table, a grating sound coming from the two back legs dragging. Alan's body went rigid at the sudden movement and loss of balance. Spinning the chair to face the table, Billy walked out of the room. He came back carrying a plate with a turkey sandwich and a granola bar. "I hope you like turkey," Billy said bringing his chair next to Alan's and putting the plate down.

"I'm not hungry," Alan said stubbornly fighting the last of his sobs down.

"That's too bad," Billy sighed, "Because if you don't eat now, you won't be eating again until tomorrow morning."

Alan turned his head in the direction and Billy's voice, "And just how am I supposed to eat, then?" He gave a small tug at his arms.

"That's what I'm here for," Billy said, picking up the sandwich, "Open up." After a moment of hesitation, Alan slowly opened his mouth. Billy let him take a bite then chew, before repeating the process. Swallowing the last of the sandwich, Alan heard Billy opening a plastic wrapper, "Granola bar," Billy explained as he held it up to Alan's face. Alan clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, "Why not?" Billy asked, dropping his hand.

"Does it have walnuts?" Alan asked, knowing that was a common ingredient for granola.

Billy looked at the wrapper, "Yup. That a problem?"

Alan nodded his head, "I'm allergic. So unless you want a blonde haired, blue eyed, anaphylactic shocked, fourteen year old, I wouldn't have me eat that."

"Then I guess no granola bar for you," Billy said, smiling to himself at Alan's sarcasm.


	9. First Bid: scared

Gordon, John, and Tin-tin arrived back at the island half an hour after the call from Alan's captor. Jeff and Virgil were still in the office, both unable to speak after learning the full extent of Alan's situation. Jeff had silently set up his account for the auction and was waiting for it to begin; a timer on the site said twenty minutes.

Tin-tin went to her father after she returned, wanting what comfort he could give her. She was emotionally exhausted and he gave an herbal tea that relaxed her enough for sleep.

Gordon and John went to their father's office, and knew almost immediately there had been news on Alan. "What have you heard?" John asked, not really sure he wanted the answer.

Virgil looked at his father, who did not look like he could explain. Clearing his throat, Virgil spoke up, "You two should sit down," Gordon and John shared a look but sat on the coach. Virgil leaned on Jeff's desk and looked at his older and younger brother, "Alan's kidnapper called." Swallowing the lump in his throat, Virgil forged on, "It would seem he is selling Alan to the highest bidder."

"What?" Gordon exclaimed. John turned visibly paler.

"He is also having Dad bid in this…_auction_," Virgil spat out the word.

"That is just so…so _wrong_!" John managed, "Who could do that to a kid?"

Gordon just sat with his jaw hanging open, _my only baby brother is with a monster! The same monster that is making Dad _bid_ against more monsters for Alan!_ "He couldn't just ask for a ransom?" Gordon finished his thoughts aloud.

"Bad for business," Virgil responded harshly.

"Has Scott been told?" John asked after a few minutes of silence.

Jeff nodded, finally acknowledging his other sons, "He and Brains know and told the police. I don't want Tin-tin or Fermat to know though," Jeff said taking a deep breath, "They shouldn't have to know about that side of humanity."

"It isn't humanity, Dad," John said with a cold voice, "Those _monsters_ don't deserve that credit." Virgil nodded his concurrence.

"How…" Gordon choked on his words, "How does this…auction work?"

"We're going to find out in a few minutes," Jeff answered looking at the timer again. John got up and fiddled with his father's laptop, "John, what are you doing?"

"Making it so we don't have to crowed around your desk," John said, and with that the screen on the wall showed what Jeff's computer screen showed.

"Good call," Virgil said, sitting on the sofa next to Gordon. John sat on the other side, and they all watch the clock count down: 4…3…2…1…

As the clock reached zero, the four Tracy men sitting in the office watched as the screen showed a video of Alan, still tied to the chair with the ball gag and blindfold firmly in place. "Alan!" Gordon cried, his eyes tearing up. John and Virgil put their arms around their younger brother, both feeling their own eyes prick with tears.

A banner over the video read: **You can only watch**. While to the left, was a meter that measured what the bidding values were. The starting value read $5,000. At each 5,000 increment was a line. _"Welcome," _A voice sounded,"_The rules for this auction are as follows: Every five hours the bidding will be open for ten minutes. A live feed will play for three hours. After those three hours, the feed will repeat for two hours, so the article can have a break."_ After the voice stopped talking, a timer flashed with the words, **bid open**, under it and counted down from ten.

"How we going to play this, Dad?" Virgil barely found his voice.

Jeff heart's clenched seeing his youngest trying to control his shaking; every now and again, however, a tremor broke through. "Let's let this first time play out," Jeff managed, casting a quick glance at his three middle sons, "Then someone will always be in here to keep an eye on Alan."

The Tracy's watched the meter level steadily rise for the next ten minutes. When the clock reached zero it began a new timer, this one counting down from five hours with **bid closed** written under it. The last bid value was marked at $12,050.

"How many sick people are involved in this!" Virgil cried as his own tears fell. Gordon just stood up and stalked out of the room. John watched him go and let out a shaky breath.

"Not as many as you would think," Jeff said emotionlessly, "But more than is right."

"I'm going to check on Gordo," Virgil said not hiding the sadness in his voice.

John squeezed his shoulder in silent support and watched him go. Turning to the Tracy patriarch, the second eldest spoke, "Dad, you need a break."

Jeff tore his eyes from Alan, whipping them, and he looked at his son, "I can't leave him, John. Not while he's like that." He pointed towards the big screen then buried his head in his hands.

Walking up to his father, and pulling him into a strong embrace, John told him, "I'll stay here. You need to eat something and stay strong for Alan. You can't do that wearing yourself down." John held his father by the shoulders and looked him in the eye, "I'll ask Kyrano to make some of his herbal tea. That is the only way Tin-tin was able to sleep. You need to _sleep_."

Jeff took a deep, shaky breath, "You get me when the timer is down to half an hour."

"I will, Father," John promised as he led him to the door.

Kyrano came at that time, as if sensing he was needed, "I will take care of him, Mister John." John nodded his thanks, "And I will keep Tin-tin busy."

"I'm sure Gordon would like to help with that, it would be a good distraction," the blonde Tracy thought aloud.

Kyrano nodded as he led his closest friend and employer to his room. John returned to the computer, seeing if he could trace the signal at all.

_**Alan's room**_

"Well, Alan," Billy's tenor called from in the computer, "First ten minutes and we are over $10,000. Imagine what the next few biddings will bring."

The gag was still in his mouth, so Alan just grunted, _I really don't want to know! The least he could do is knock me out. Sitting for _three_ hours tied, gagged, and blind is not going to be a fun repeating process!_

The next three hours were spent in silence. Alan could hear Billy typing and working at the computer. After a while, Alan tried to get into a more comfortable position; limited mobility meant limited comfort though.

_I wonder what everyone is doing, _Alan thought, _Scott is probably pacing or in the gym; he's never been good at sitting still. Johnny's most likely trying to trace the website or something; please let that happen! Virgil will be plucking at the piano, but none of his skill will be heard. Gordo's probably helping John trace, unless Dad recalled him; then he's swimming laps. _Alan let his head drop to his chest; he was getting tired from this long day._ Dad…Dad you're probably sitting at your desk barely holding it together. Kyrano and Tin will be cooking; hopefully forcing everyone _else_ to eat. Brains will be with Fermat; wonder if Fermat is home…_

With thoughts of his family, Alan let himself drift off into a light sleep.

Billy had watched the blonde boy fight sleep, and was amused that he still pulled at the ropes, though weakly, when he did sleep. After the three hours of live feed, he switched the loop into the feed, and turned off the camera. That done, he got up and walked over to Alan's sleeping form. Billy loosened the ropes around Alan's wrists first then undid the ankles completely.

Shaking Alan's shoulders gently, "Time to wake up, kid," Billy said evenly. Alan mumbled something into the gag then tiredly raised his head. "That's it, join the land of the living," he encouraged as he undid the gag's fastener. Feeling the gag loosen, Alan spit it out of his mouth; Billy wiped off the saliva that hung to it with a towel.

Alan flexed his jaw and licked his lips, "Thanks," he croaked.

"Here have some water," he offered as he held a cup and straw to Alan's mouth. Savoring the taste, Alan emptied the cup in seconds. "Need more?" Billy asked. Alan shook his head. "Alright, let's get you walking around some then," he said this as he finished undoing the wrist restraints.

Alan groaned as Billy lifted him to his feet and stood unsteadily. As Billy loosely cuffed his hands behind his back, Alan asked his captor, "It that really necessary?"

"Sorry, kid, don't trust you that much," was Billy's retort as he walked Alan around the room.

His stiff legs protested the walk at first, but after a while it felt good. After ten minutes of walking, Billy stopped Alan by pulling back on his shoulder. Alan heard a door open then Billy pulled him forward, "You have five minutes." That said, one cuff was released, leaving the second attached to his left wrist. A moment later and the blindfold came off too.

Before Alan could turn around, Bill closed the door and locked it. Rubbing his sore wrist, Alan squinted against the light, and looked around. He was in a small windowless bathroom that only held a toilet. With a sigh, he walked towards it.

Billy waited outside the door. Giving Alan a little more than the five minutes he had allotted. Knocking on the door, Billy called out, "Times up, Alan."

"I don't mind staying in here," Alan replied, really liking that he could actually see.

"No can do," Billy smiled, "Now, you are going to do what I say, got it?"

A resigned sigh was heard followed by a "Yeah."

"Good. You are going to kneel facing the wall opposite this door," Billy heard shuffling feet and Alan acknowledge he was kneeling, "Now put your hands, on your head and close your eyes."

Alan did as Billy ordered; _this is probably some sort of test. Do what he says, without him having to physically enforce it, it may build up some trust…_Alan thought, even as he stifled a yawn. "Alright, Billy," he informed his abductor he had done as told.

Alan heard the door open a little, and then all the way, "Must admit I expected some resistance," Billy stated as he walked forward and first tied the blindfold back in place.

Alan shrugged, as the cuffs where fastened again, "Not much point; wouldn't get far," he reasoned.

"True," Billy replied, "You wouldn't even get out the front door." Picking Alan up off the floor, Billy directed him back into the main room. "What do you think about getting some actual sleep?"

"You mean I have a choice?" Alan responded dryly.

"For the next five hours you do."

"Five?" Alan asked confused.

"There is a little over an hour until the next bid," Bill explained, "Then you will have four after that. An hour before the third bid we'll move round again and get some more food into you."

"So glad you care about my comfort," Alan grumbled.

Billy just chuckled and sat Alan on the bed.


	10. Second Bid: innocent

Scott and Brains had picked up Fermat from the school and brought him to the hotel they were staying at. Brains was flying back to the island with Fermat in the morning. Scott had talked with John not long ago and waited until Fermat was asleep before filling in Brains.

"John says the bid went up $7050 dollars in the first ten minutes," Scott whispered to Brains.

Brains shook his head sadly, "I-I'm s-s-still h-having tr-tr-tr-issues a-accepting a p-p-person d-doing this t-to a-another h-h-human...l-let a-a-alone a k-k-k-child," he added.

"I know what you mean," Scott agreed, "John said he sat for three hours tied to a chair!" Brains put a comforting hand on the oldest Tracy son, "He couldn't see or talk…"

"Th-th-that m-maybe only w-w-while t-t-the f-f-f-recording is l-live," Brains tried to consol.

Scott looked out the window for a minute before responding, "That doesn't help much."

Brains nodded, "D-d-did John s-s-say h-how Alan l-looked?" He enquired.

Letting out a sigh, Scott sat down heavily, "Yeah, Brains," he began, "He said that for twenty minutes Alan sat trying not to shake – whether in fear or cold I don't know – then looked like he finally drifted off into a light sleep." Letting out another sigh, Scott continued, "He said it looked like he'd been trying to get out of the bonds for a while, his wrists looked red and raw."

"Th-that's g-g-good t-to h-h-h-know," Brains said, continuing after a look from Scott, "H-he is st-st-still f-f-fighting…h-he h-h-hasn't g-given up. Y-you c-can't ei-either."

A solemn nod was Scott's only response. The two men fell into a comfortable silence. At quarter to midnight, Brains herded Scott off to bed, dosing him with a mild sedative.

_**Tracy Island**_

Jeff had come back to the office when John called for him, "How's he looking?" Jeff said wearily, taking the seat John vacated.

"Looks like he slept most of the live feed, these last two hours was just a repeat of the first two," John said, as Virgil came in, "How's Gordon?"

"He said he couldn't watch right now," Virgil sat with a sigh; "He and Tin went to the beach…I think out to Alan's favorite cove."

"Can't say I blame him," John said simply.

Jeff nodded, watching the sleeping form of Alan. "The timer is almost done," he pointed out eventually.

"What are you planning on doing?" John voiced his and Virgil's thoughts.

"Play hard ball," Jeff said matter-of-factly, "See if we can't get rid of some of these _people_."

"This guy really makes you play into his plans," Virgil said angrily, "There really is no choice but to up the ante and force the bid too high for others."

"You guys said, he said, Alan convinced him to call and include you," John remarked, bringing up something that he had been thinking about for the last four hours, "What do you make of that?"

"Good point, Johnny," Virgil said thinking, "It sounded like the park was a crime of convenience; Alan was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That was my thinking," John established, "I don't think contacting the family was part of the first plan."

Jeff nodded in agreement, "My best guess is Alan told him his name, he did use it after all, and he saw an opportunity for more money."

"This guy is smart," Virgil finally admitted.

"You have no idea," John replied, "I tried tracing the signal of the live feed for the three hours it ran. All I ended up with was going in a circle that went all over the world, and didn't have any sort of pattern that suggested a focal point."

"He is going to make a mistake," Jeff said firmly, "And when he does, we _will_ get him!"

The last five minutes of the timer were spent in strained silence. When the bid opened again, the three present Tracy's watched in dismay as the bid value spiked up from $12,050 to $16,050 in the first minute. Alan was shown laying on a bed; his left hand and left foot secured to the bed's frame. The blindfold was still in place, but there was no gag. "Looks like he's sleeping," John observed.

"Is that good or bad?" Virgil asked.

"I'm calling it good for now," Jeff said as he typed at the computer. When there were only a few minutes left, Jeff sent his bid of $15,000 to raise the total to $36,000. The bidding petered out and stopped at $38,000 when the bid closed.

"Looks like you scared off some of the bidders," John said a little hopeful.

"I hope you're right, John," Jeff said as he watched Alan fidget in his sleep.

A sudden thought occurred to Virgil that made him growl, "That _bastard_!"

"Virgil, watch your language," Jeff scolded, "What has you riled up?"

"This is all a marketing scheme!"

"How do you figure?" John questioned, while trying to calm his younger brother.

"The first feed was a rather scared Alan," John and Jeff nodded, "Well this one is showing Alan looking innocent in sleep!"

Jeff paled, realizing Virgil's train of thought. John swallowed audibly adding to Virgil's words, "To convince these sick people bidding that they want to see him like that more!" Virgil nodded, showing that he was thinking the same thing.

_Oh Alan!_ Jeff thought in despair, _we're trying to find you! You have to stay strong, please, God, give him the strength he needs._ Jeff let a few tears fall, before wiping them away and sitting straighter. "John," he began with new confidence, "I want you to go eat something then rest. And I will not hear any objections, go." John closed his mouth, open from an unspoken protest, and nodded, before getting up and leaving. "Virgil, I want you to go out and find Gordon and Tin-tin. Bring them back to the house and get them to eat something."

"What about you, Dad?"

"I'll eat in here," Jeff stated, "But I am taking this shift. You are in charge of keeping Tin-tin and Gordon distracted. But if Gordon needs to see Alan, send him in here."

Reluctantly, Virgil nodded, "Okay, I'll have Kyrano bring you some dinner. Then I'll take the next watch." The last bit was more a mandate rather than an offer, and Jeff agreed.

Virgil left and closed the door behind him, setting off for the beach in search of his youngest brother's close friend and his only red headed brother.

Jeff turned his attention back to Alan. His baby was still sleeping, but it was a restless and twitchy sleep. After an hour and a half into the live feed, Alan found a more restful slumber. The last hour and a half he stayed sleeping peacefully. Jeff was glad that he found some peace, but couldn't help but think of what Virgil had pointed out; _whoever else is watching is probably loving this, and ready to fight for him…but they will _not_ win! Alan _is_ coming home!_

As the feed switch back to showing Alan's restless sleep, Jeff called Scott's cell. When it went to voice mail, Jeff realize it was very early in the morning in New England, so left a brief message asking Scott to call him. Kyrano had brought a salad earlier, but Jeff hadn't felt like eating. Continuing to watch Alan toss and turn, again, he picked at his salad and managed a few bites.

Some time later, the vid-phone chimed an incoming call, and Jeff tiredly answered, "Jeff Tracy."


	11. Good Behavior

When Alan first fell asleep, he found himself trapped in a dream:

_He was surrounded by darkness; everywhere he looked an unending black. "Hello?" he called out. An echo was his only answer._

_Walking forward, Alan tried to find a way out. Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Looking over his shoulder and trying to get away, Alan saw an impossibly blacker shadow moving to envelope him in a tight, inescapable hold._

_Crying out, Alan started to run. But he was moving nowhere, and a chilling laugh filled the air. "You aren't going anywhere, boy, you are too valuable," a cold voice matched the laugh._

_"Who are you?" Alan asked now frozen in place, "What do you want?"_

_"You," was the laughing response, "You will be mine and never will you see your family again. I will keep you forever, there is no escape!"_

_Alan found himself unable to talk or cry out for help. Feeling panic rise in him, Alan felt the shadow wrap itself around him and squeeze, "Mine forever," it whispered. A cold feeling spread over Alan, taking his breath away._

_A sudden flash of light blinded Alan. Closing his eyes, he heard a piercing scream, and then the constricting hold of the shadow vanished. Tentatively opening his eyes, Alan found himself in his favorite cove on Tracy Island._

_The sun was shining, and the waves beat rhythmically against the shore. "Hello, Alan," a musical voice chimed._

_Turning, Alan saw a woman with eyes as blue and as changing as the sea and long brown hair blowing in the soft breeze. "Who...Who are you?" Alan asked nervously._

_A soft smile graced the gentle face, "I am what you would call a guardian angel, Alan," she explained, "I am here to keep nightmares at bay, and I will keep you safe during this daunting time."_

_"If you're my guardian angel, why did this happen?" Alan cried desperately._

_"I cannot change the way of the world, Alan," she explained sadly, "I can only help you through it and keep you from losing hope. Hope will always give you a better chance than giving up. Do not give up Alan…Hold onto hope; hope that your family will come for you, hope that the world is a good place; hope that you will make it through this."_

_"What good does hope do me if I'm tied to chair and can't talk or see?" He cried, falling to his knees and letting tears fall._

_Kneeling next to Alan, the woman lifted his chin. Wiping away his tears, she smiled, "Hope is stronger than the chair or the blindfold or the gag," she spoke softly, "Hope will give you the strength to make it through so you can see your loved ones." That said, she pulled Alan to his feet. Taking him in her arms, Alan felt warmth and energy enter him. Then she was gone._

True to his word, Billy woke Alan up with a little more than an hour before the next bid. "Let's go, sleepy heady," Billy said undoing the ankle cuff then the wrist.

"Hmmm," Alan groaned, in his half-awake state he felt Billy secure his wrists behind him again, "What t'me is 't?" He slurred.

"Not a morning person I see," was all Billy offered as an answer as he brought Alan to his feet.

Shaking his head to clear it, "I like me sleep," Alan said, his voice rough from said sleep. He felt himself being pulled forward, and blindly stumble along.

"Not unusual," Billy said sitting Alan at the table again, "Orange or apple juice?"

"Orange," Alan said, adding, as an afterthought, "Please."

Billy smiled, "You don't need to worry about manners, Alan." Alan just shrugged, "Your choice. Anyway, What do you want on your toast, butter or raspberry jam?"

"Jam."

Billy walked out of the room wordlessly, coming back with Alan's light breakfast. Repeating how they did dinner the last night, the toast was gone in a few minutes and the orange juice followed shortly after.

"So…What now?" Alan asked, sitting back in the chair.

"Now," Billy said standing up, "We call papa Tracy."

Alan sat up and turned his body towards Billy's voice, "What?"

"Let's call it a reward," Billy enlightened, "You have been here for over twelve hours, and have behaved well."

"No early release, though?" Alan said wryly, "That's usually the reward for good behavior."

"Nice try," Billy snorted, "But that doesn't apply here."

"And when you say 'talk'," Alan ventured, "Do you mean _I_ actually get to talk? Or is it one sided again?"

As he led Alan back to the bed – sitting him so his back was against the metal frame– Billy thought about how to answer. He didn't respond until Alan's hands had been cuffed behind him, around one of the frame's horizontal bars. "I'll give you an option," Billy decided, "You can talk for ten minutes without a gag or they can talk twenty minutes and you have a gag."

"Without, please" Alan said without a second thought, _ten minutes of _really_ talking to my family is much better than twenty minutes of listening to them._

"Alright then," Billy walked over to the camera and turned it back on, "Are these vid-phones tied into the internet?"

"Um, no," Alan answered, "They are like cell phones, working off satellites or towers. Why?"

"If your father signs out of the auction, then he won't be able to get back in. And considering he has already scared off a third of the bidders with his high one, I don't think he would want that," Billy supplied, connecting the call, "You may want to mention that detail, by the way, wouldn't want him to accidentally log out, would you?"

Alan shook his head, and waited for call to be answered.

"_Jeff Tracy."_

_**Tracy Island**_

Looking at the screen, Jeff almost dropped his fork loaded with salad, "Alan!"

"Hey, Dad," Alan gave a small smile.

Jeff pushed a silent alarm to call John, Gordon, and Virgil to his office, and then spoke again, "How are you holding up, son?"

"Not too bad," Alan said as the rest of the Tracy sons came running in. Jeff signaled them to be quiet and pointed at the vid-phone. "Look we don't have a lot of time to talk," Alan continued.

"How much time do we have?" John asked.

"_Ten minutes, starting now,"_ the voice from the first call and beginning of the auction said.

"First things first," Alan started again, "Whatever you do, do _not_ sign out of this…web page," he could bring himself to say auction.

"Why, Sprout?" Virgil asked.

"Cause you can't get back in if you leave, Virgie," Alan replied with a frown.

"Alright, good to know," Jeff said, "Anything else?"

"Not relating to this…situation, no," Alan shook his head.

"Well, Al," Gordon began, "You better make it back here for Operation Angry Elder, Team Terrible Two minus One doesn't sound as good!" He wanted to lighten the mood a little; Alan just nodded his head slowly.

"I hear ya, Gordo," Alan fought some tears from falling, before continuing, "You wouldn't stand a chance without me."

"Oh," Gordon joked, "When'd you get to be so cocky?"

Alan gave a wet laugh that betrayed his tears "Spending too much time with you and Scooter."

"That why you suggested he replace Gordo…later on," John caught himself before he revealed the family moonlighted as the Thunderbirds.

"That had a part in it, Johnny," Alan gave a small smile, "I was also at school, so I was safe from payback."

"_One minute,"_ the tenor warned.

"Alright, Sprout," Virgil spoke up, "You stay strong, we'll get you back."

"Yeah, kiddo," John nodded, before realizing Alan couldn't see him, "You'll be back here in the warm sun in no time."

"And then you and I will have a good prank planning meeting," Gordon added.

"Now that the rest of us fear future traps," Jeff glanced as Gordon, "We'll say good-bye."

"Bye, Dad, Virg, John, Gordon," Alan said a little sadly; leaning forward as much as he could, not wanting to end the conversation, "I love you."

"We love you to, Al," Jeff said for his three other sons, they all added their own good-byes. Then the screen went black as the call was disconnected.

The four Tracy's watched the black screen for a moment longer before John cleared his throat, "Gordon," he began, "Should we be worried about Operation Angry Elder?"

Gordon just cracked a devious smile, "You'll just have to wait to find out, Johnny-boy." Jeff shook his head as John and Virgil groaned.

Looking back at the computer, Jeff saw there was still half an hour before next bidding.


	12. Third Bid: angry

Once he had ended the call, Billy walked over to Alan again, carrying a box of tissues. Holding one up to Alan's face, Billy gently ordered, "Blow your nose." Then he wiped away the tears that had managed to fall down Alan's face and past the blindfold. That done, Billy began to reposition Alan, making small talk to distract him, "How many brothers do you have?"

"Four," Alan said taking a shuddering breath to control his crying, "All older."

"Ouch," Billy smirked, "And you all live in one house?"

"One of them is usually away," Alan said as Billy tied rope around his ankles. "How long is this going to go on, Billy," Alan finally asked.

"Until there are only a few bidders left. Then they will have a blind bid and the winner gets notified," Billy finished off the bindings, "Alright, I want you to bring your left knee to your chest." Alan did as instructed and felt the ropes tighten before stopping him. "Now try and bring your Right knee up," Alan did, but his left leg was pulled straight, "Good. You have a little more mobility so your legs don't cramp up, one can be bent, or both can be straight."

Alan nodded, and gave a tug at his hands; each one was tied to the corner posts, holding his arms up and to the side as he sat against the head board. "Not so much with my hands," he said dryly.

"Not so much," Billy said, as he grabbed the ball gag, "Open up."

Alan shook his head and clamped his mouth shut; _I don't want that thing in my mouth! You don't even need it, not like anyone would hear me talking or I could give anything away…_Billy just sighed and grabbed Alan by the chin. Forcing his mouth open, Billy put the gag in and tied it off. Alan grunted and tried to complain, but anything that came out was muffled. Alan then banged his head back against the wall in frustration, wincing from the contact.

"Trust me, kid, the gag is not the worst of it," Billy said as he walked to the desk, taking scissors out of the box on top of it. Walking back to Alan, he sat on the bed next to the blonde, "This is worse." He heard a confused grunt from behind the gag and Alan tipped his head to the side.

Billy just reached up and began cutting down the front of Alan's shirt. Alan flinched when the cold metal touched his skin and tried to pull away, but his arms held him in place. Trying to kick his feet ended with both of them trying to pull up at the same time, not allowing them to move. Billy finished opening the front and then cut along the top of the sleeves to the neck line. Pulling the open shirt off Alan, Billy threw it over by the desk.

_What the Hell!_ Alan thought angrily,_ it's not enough to tie me up and auction me off, now you have to show me half naked!_ In his anger, but also fear, Alan didn't care that he was tied down; he began pulling at the ropes and trying to get free. All the while hurling harsh words at Billy, even though none of them were heard.

Billy just smiled and turned the camera back on; he had expected and even hoped for this reaction. _This next round will really weed out the competition,_ Billy thought to himself as he prepped for the bid.

_**Scott's hotel**_

Scott had woken up at eight thirty and glared at Brains for drugging him. Brains just shrugged and finished his and Fermat's packing. Fermat had slept until nine, and barely spoke, drawing in on himself from worry for his best friend. All Fermat and Tin-tin knew was Alan was kidnapped and there was going to be a ransom demand; they just didn't know the ransom was determined by betting for Alan in an auction.

After breakfast, the Hackenbackers left for the airport, "W-w-we'll c-call w-when w-w-we l-l-l-arrive," were Brains' departing words.

Scott checked his phone messages and found the one left by Jeff saying to call no matter the time. Following instructions, Scott called his father's cell, "Hey, Dad."

"_Hey, Scott," _Jeff'stired voice answered,_ "How are things there?"_

"Not much to report," Scott explained he sat down, "The local police called in the FBI to help investigate, but this guy covered his tracks really well."

A sigh from Jeff told Scott that his father had figured as much, _"John tried to trace the web site, but ended up in circles with no lead."_

_**Tracy Island**_

After the call from Alan, John had led an emotional Gordon to his room, and settled him down for the night. Then, following his own advice had gotten some of Kyrano's heaven sent herbal tea and tried to sleep. This left Virgil and Jeff in the office, when Scott called at five in the morning. Jeff had walked over to the window to talk to his oldest.

Virgil heard his father's one sided conversation as he watched the repeat of Alan sleep, "John tried to trace the web site, but ended up in circles with no lead."

"_Brains and Fermat left a little while ago,"_ Jeff listened to Scott,_ "They should be airborne within an hour."_

"Good to know," Jeff replied.

"_How's Alan doing?"_

"We got a call from him," Jeff informed, "He's holding it together, but I can't tell you what he's thinking; the conversation was rather short."

The Tracy patriarch heard a tired sigh from his oldest, _"I'm going to pulverize this guy when I find him!"_

"I know how you feel Scott, but your first priority is finding Alan," Jeff consoled, "Let the FBI track this guy down."

Scott was about to respond when both men heard Virgil cry, "Oh my God!"

Spinning around and hurrying to his middle son, Jeff asked worried, "What is it, Virgil?" Virgil just pointed at the screen that showed the bid was open. Jeff added his own, "Oh God!"

"_Dad? Dad!" _Scott called through the phone,_ "What's going on? What's wrong?"_

"It's Alan, Scott," Jeff finally responded, "That _monster_ has him tied to a bed and _shirtless!_" Jeff lifted Virgil out of his seat as the bid started rising rapidly. Putting the phone on speaker, he continued, "Alan doesn't look too happy about it either, he's struggling to get out of the ropes holding him."

"_What's the bid doing?" _Scott asked dread in his voice.

"In the last three minutes it has gone from $38,000 to $45,000," Jeff growled. Jeff cast a quick glance at Virgil, who was ghost white and had tears silently falling down his face. Virgil just watched his baby brother struggle, his heart breaking at the sight.

"_Dad,"_ Scott's strong voice, laced with anger, came through the speaker, _"I don't care how you do it, but you out bid those bastards!"_

"I'm going to, son," Jeff said calmly, but just as angry, "I'm going to raise the bid to $75,000."

Doing as he said, Virgil and Jeff watched the bid pause, and then the timer ended, closing the bid. Virgil sank to the couch and shuddered with a sob, "How can someone _do_ this, Dad?"

Sitting next to his distraught son, Jeff pulled him into a strong embrace, "I don't know, Virgil, I just don't know." Rubbing Virgil's back, they both watched Alan struggle, each tug getting weaker with exertion. "Why don't I take this watch," Jeff offered.

Keeping his eyes on Alan, Virgil shook his head, "I said I would, and I _will_. If Alan is fighting through this, so will I."

Both men then watched as Alan sagged with fatigue; breathing hard and covered in sweat. After Alan's breathing calmed, he continued to pull at the ropes, but it was halfhearted. Virgil then pushed his father out of the room and locked the door, "I don't want John or Gordon to see him like this," Virgil had argued.

"You can't keep them out, Virg," Jeff countered, "But I'll warn them before they come in here."

Virgil shook his head, "Not for the first three hours, Dad. Let me make sure it doesn't get worse, this was bad enough for us to watch."

Jeff reluctantly promised to try and keep John and Gordon away for the live feed then left to try and relax some; sleep was not an option, though.


	13. Unexpected

Billy had watched Alan's futile struggle for the first half hour, a satisfied smile on his face. _Jeff Tracy really knows how to scare off the weaker bidders. Already we are down to the last ten…one more bid will weed out the rest and we could probably do the blind bid,_ Billy thought happily. He already knew that one of his buyers was in the same economic league as the Tracy's and one other could keep up, barely. Tracy's only mistake was bidding so high so fast, the other bidders know he's a true threat, while the others hid themselves better with small bids.

Alan's shoulders and wrist ached from pulling on them, making him groan when he moved. Every now and again he would switch which leg was bent, trying to cover his naked torso as much as he could. Alan also leaned his head back and gently tapped it against the wall, really debating hitting his head harder to knock himself out. _That would just make things worse though,_ he thought grumpily, _a concussion would only serve to give me another headache and come with the other symptoms._

After the live feed, Billy turned off the camera. "Alright, Alan," he said sitting down on the bed and tilting the boy's head forward, "Shouldn't be too much longer now." Undoing the gag and wiping it off as he took it out, Billy lifted Alan's chin. Alan pulled his head away from the touch and turned his head to the side. "Take it your still angry," Billy said humorously, "Oh well, you can give the silent treatment all you want, but you're still going to be shirtless and gagged for the next bid."

Alan frowned deeply as Billy began undoing his legs. When both were free, he tried to kick out, but Billy caught his foot and then put a knee over both his legs. Putting most of his body weight on to Alan's legs, Billy said coldly, "I understand that you're angry, but what would you have accomplished with your arms still tied?" Grabbing Alan's face in a tight grip, Billy forced it to face him.

Alan fought, trying to pull his face away while also trying to buck Billy off. It was a losing battle, and soon he stopped, breathing hard. Brining his face inches from Alan's, Billy's next words were whispered harshly, "I said I wouldn't hurt you, _boy_, but I can always change my mind. I can also make you much more uncomfortable and appealing to the buyers," Billy paused to let that sink in, "So you can make this easy on yourself or I will have you sit in only your boxers and dump ice water on you."

Alan was glaring at Billy behind the blindfold, but gave a curt nod in answer. Billy released his grip on Alan's face and took his weight off Alan's legs. Alan groaned in pain as Billy undid his wrists and let his arms drop. As his shoulders burned from the sudden new position, Alan barely noticed as his hands were cuffed behind him; tighter than the last time.

Billy tightly gripped a small shoulder and hauled the blonde to his feet; keeping him standing as Alan's legs gave out. Unceremoniously dumping Alan into a chair, Billy stalked out of the room.

Rolling his shoulders, Alan winced, _damn! I really hope they are only sore and not really hurt or something…._

Lost in thought, Alan didn't hear Billy come back into the room. The sudden rope wrapping around his bare abdomen and chair made him flinch and, regrettably, let out a yelp in surprise. "Sorry about losing my temper," Billy said as he tied off the new rope, "But you need to know that I have my limits." Undoing the cuffs, Billy gently worked Alan's arms to the front.

Rubbing his wrists, Alan tested the new restraint; it effectively held his back to the chair and kept his arms pinned above his elbows. "You did want rebellious," Alan retorted dryly.

"Doesn't mean I won't get angry though," Billy said picking up one of Alan's wrists, "And I meant what I said, I will make you uncomfortable if you act out like that again."

Alan hissed as Billy put something on his wrist that stung and tried to pull away. Billy gently, but firmly, held the wrist, "It is just an ointment. You managed to rub your wrists raw; this will make them hurt less."

Alan nodded and grimaced as Billy continued his work. As Billy took his second wrists to repeat the process, Alan asked something he had been thinking about, "How many times have you done this?"

Billy paused his work and glanced at Alan. Continuing, he replied, nonchalantly, "How many times have I done what?"

Alan clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, _like you don't know what I mean!_ "Taken a…kid and sold them to the highest _bidder_," he paused at the word, "You seem prepared for a lot of situations."

Cleaning up his supplies, Billy sighed, "You really don't want to know."

"Yes I do," Alan insisted, "After all you have put me through I want to know how many others had to suffer through it too! And how many never saw their family again!" Alan finished with a yell, his emotions slipping out of his control for a second.

Billy sat back and sighed, "You really want to know?" Alan gave a single nod, "Fine, twenty-five not including you. Twenty-five children all sold without me getting caught. Twenty-five children that never went home, because all twenty-five didn't have rich families that could compete with the bidding. You are the first upper class kid I grabbed, and also the first kid that has their parents fighting to get them back."

Alan's stomach clenched and he felt nauseous, _twenty-five! All with some sick person that bought them for who knows what reason!_ Alan swallowed the lump in his throat and dropped his head in desolation. "Why?" Alan finally manage to find his voice, "How can you do this to a kid? How can you do it _twenty-six _times?"

Billy stood up and dragged the chair, and Alan, over to the camera, "I do it because that is how I make a living," he said simply, "And I can do it without a second thought or sleepless night."

"You couldn't find another job?" Alan said incredulous, "One that was legal and didn't ruin the lives of other people?"

"No, Alan, I couldn't," was Billy's gruff reply as he began to tie Alan's feet to the chair again.

"Why not?" Alan pushed.

"Will you stop asking questions if I answer?" Alan nodded, "And then you drop it. I don't want to hear any more about this, got it?" Alan nodded again. With a sigh, Billy explained, "I can't because this is all I have ever known, Alan," Alan frowned in confusion, but didn't interrupt, "I was younger than you when I was put into a similar position."

"The times were different than, not so much technology, but I went to the highest bidder." Alan's jaw dropped, "The man that bought me made me his pet, but I could never go outside and the only education I got was from reading books; teaching myself. Every night I slept in a dog kennel, every day I wore a dog collar and leash. He had me walk on my hands and knees. If I talked he beat me, if I behaved I got to eat. The only time I was allowed to walk on two legs was if he was out of the house."

Billy paused to compose himself as memories started coming to mind, swallowing hard, he continued, "I was with him until I turned sixteen, then he sold me to another person. This one used me as his play thing," Alan flinched at Billy's emotion, "For three more years I was molested daily, and still never saw the outside world except through a window. If I ever tried to get out or make contact with anyone, I was thrown into a basement and beaten for days."

Alan started to feel pity for Billy, but he didn't think Billy would appreciate any sympathy. "When I was twenty, I was sold to another man. But this one didn't humiliate or hurt me. He taught me," Billy said as he undid the rope around Alan's torso, and then tied his right wrist to the chair's back leg; making it so Alan's arm was pulled down straight and back a little. Repeating the process with the left hand, Billy continued, "I learned how I could do what was done to me. How to make a person suffer without permanently hurting them. He also taught me to control emotions and detach myself from other people; especially anyone I grabbed. For the first time in ten years I saw the outside world, and I could let my anger out."

As Billy finished tying off the ropes he went back to the desk. Grabbing the box there, he returned to Alan, "Eventually, I was let go, to live my life. But I didn't have the skills to get a real job, Alan, so I had to make do with what I _did_ know. I quickly learned kids were my best option. And so here we are, me making a living."

Alan tried to suppress a shudder, "So now you're doing to kids what someone did to you? You're purposefully subjecting them to what you yourself consider cruel?"

"I never said it was cruel."

"You didn't have to," Alan countered, "It's in your voice, you hated what you went through, but yet you are doing it to me; you did it to twenty-five other kids. That's kind of two-faced, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Billy shrugged as he knelt down by Alan, "But it is all I know. If you went through ten years of that, can you honestly tell me you would be able to start a fresh life? You may never find your family, they could all be dead for all you knew, and if you did go back, neither you nor them would know what to do. I made do with what I had and you unfortunately got caught in the middle. But you are also lucky that your father is rich, because he is fighting rather hard to get you back."

"What do you mean, 'he's fighting hard'?" Alan asked as he felt Billy stick something to his upper left arm then chest.

"What I mean," Billy said, switching sides, "Is he has raised the bid high enough to scare off most of the bidders. Most likely after this bid, it will be him and one, possibly two others."

Alan's heart beat faster with hope, _this is almost over! Dad is fighting to get me back!_ As Billy stuck more things to his right arm, and then chest, Alan asked, "What are you doing?"

Something was then placed above his belly button and one on his spine belowhis shoulder blades, "Getting you ready for the bid," was Billy's vague answer.


	14. Fourth Bid: a dance

_**Tracy Island**_

John and Gordon had come to sit with Virgil even after Jeff's warning. They, like Virgil, felt that if Alan was holding up and still fighting, the least they could do is silently support him. They all also agreed their father didn't need to watch the next live feed and so kept him out of room. They did have Scott on the phone though, so it was like all the Tracy brothers were there.

At first Jeff had protested, but with persuasion from Kyrano and Tin-tin, Jeff agreed to let John handle the next bidding.

Now sitting in the office, the four brothers waited for the timer to run out and see what their baby brother was going through this time.

"_How much longer, John?"_ Scott asked a little impatient.

"Five minutes less than the last time you asked, Scott," John answered tiredly, "Ten minutes."

"_I'm sorry,"_ Scott sighed,_ "I just hate waiting."_

"Did you just say you were 'sorry'?" Gordon feigned shock.

"_Yes, Gordon! I did," _Scott growled,_ "You got a problem with that?"_

"I think you just surprised him," Virgil said, a smile in his voice.

"Alright, brothers," John cut in, "Five minutes. Do we want to go fast and high or wait and see?"

"I say fast and high," Gordon answered.

"_Regrettably I agree with the fish,"_ Scott replied_, "See how many we scare off._"

"Guess that's the way to go, 'cause I agree," Virgil said looking at John.

"Me too," John nodded, watching the timer slowly count down, "Think we should jump to $100,000 right away?"

"_How much leeway did Dad give you?"_ Scott wondered.

"He said don't go over half a million," Virgil supplied, "But otherwise I don't think he wanted to think about it too much, and knows that we all will do whatever it takes to get him."

"_Alright then, start with $100,000," _Scott declared, _"I don't want to think there are many people that would pay that much to buy Alan."_

"Unfortunately there is at least one," John said sadly as he entered the bid. Almost immediately the bid jumped up another thousand. But then stalled. Alan was sitting in the chair again, with five black spots stuck to him; two on his chest, one on his stomach, and one on either arm, near the shoulder.

"Looks like there is some hesitation," Gordon said hopeful.

"I say we keep our next bids low, see how high this person wants to go," Virgil finally said.

"_Virgil's on to something there,"_ Scott supported.

"Okay, let's raise the bid to $104,000," John said as he input the value.

"Alright, now that we have a plan of action," Gordon spoke up, "What are those things?" He pointed to the spots.

"I have no idea," Virgil said.

"_What are you talking about?"_ Scott questioned.

"Alan's got five things stuck to him," Virgil said confused. John looked up from his latest bid of $110,000 from the $108,000 that answered their previous one.

Suddenly, the three middle Tracy's gasped, _"What's happening?"_ Scott asked worried about his brothers' reaction.

"Alan was sitting still," John said softly, "But now it looks like he's spazzing out!"

"_How do you mean?"_ Scott asked, angry that he couldn't see, _"How's he moving?"_

"He's stopped now," Gordon breathed, "But he's shaking and breathing deeply."

"To answer you Scott," Virgil said, "He first kind of twitched his right shoulder then jumped a little in the chair. After that he jerked, trying to twist to the right then the left."

The bid jumped to $115,000, and Alan started to jerk again. "He's doing it again!" Gordon cried.

"_John! Do not place a bid yet!"_ Scott suddenly yelled, _"Now tell me, how much did the bid go up from Alan's first spaz?"_

"It went from our $110,000 bid to an $115,000 bid from the other person," Virgil filled in, "Why? What are you thinking?"

"_You guys said something about black spots, right?"_ Scott took a breath.

"Yeah."

"_I think they're electrodes,"_ Scott growled out,_ "That bastard! He's shocking Alan!"_

"Well, there's a minute left on the timer," John said quickly, "Do we bid again, but just do a small one?"

"_Yes, but only raise it $1,000,"_ Scott ordered.

"Alright. Ours was the last bid," John said as the bid closed, "It stopped at $116,000."

"_What's Alan doing?"_

"He stopped jerking and is back to breathing hard," Virgil managed, "What got you thinking he was being shocked?"

"_That is the best explanation for the jerking then hard breathing," _Scott said flatly, _"Make him _dance_ for the buyers."_

"Well, he isn't done shocking Alan," John remarked dryly, "Looks like he'll keep it up for the next three hours."

"How painful is that shocking?" Gordon asked in a small voice as he sat down.

"_Not painful, Gordo,"_ Scott informed, _"Just an uncomfortable sting or tingling. And if he wasn't expecting it, it would explain his reaction."_

"Doesn't really help much," Virgil growled as he sat next to younger brother and held him close.

"How do you know what it feels like to be shocked with electrodes, Scott?" John asked.

"_Uh,"_ Scott coughed,_ "Air Force for torture resistance training…and other things,"_ the last part was muttered, but John heard it.

"And when you say 'other things'," John smiled, "Do they involve a girl?"

"_I will _not_ dignify that with an answer, _John_!" _ Scott growled embarrassed.

Virgil shook his head, and pulled Gordon to his feet. "Come on Gordo," he said softly, "You don't have to watch this." As he said that, Alan was trying to fight through another shocking.

"No," Gordon said weakly, "I have to stay. He can't do this alone."

"He won't be alone," John said helping Virgil lead Gordon out, "I will be here. None of us will think less of you, not even Alan, for not being able to watch this."

"_Listen to them, Fish," _Scott said from the phone, _"You can still support him, but you don't have to watch."_

John closed the door behind Virgil and sat back down at the desk, "Scott, I don't think any of us can take much more of this."

"_I hear you, John," _Scott replied tiredly,_ "He's already been with that sorry excuse for a human for twenty-four hours, and all we can do is watch."_

John watched Alan's head droop, and his breathing become ragged. "Scott, be honest, "John finally said, "Does it actually hurt?"

Scott sighed,_ "It really depends on how high the setting is. It won't cause permanent damage, but it can be painful."_

"I'm going with it's painful part of the time," John stated dryly as he watched tears fall from behind the blindfold.

"_How bad is it?"_

"His breathing is ragged and it looks like he's letting himself cry. He hasn't shown any tears, so far, if he knows we're watching, that tells me it isn't good."

"_He could just be tired of holding it in,"_ Scott tried to think more positive, _"Letting it out now may be easier."_

"You be ready to get him, Scott," John said harshly, "I'm going to try tracing this guy with Thunderbird Five's help. Maybe working off my last scan I can get a smaller circle." With that, the two brothers said good bye and John set to work with a new vigor.


	15. Aftereffects

Alan had listened as Billy worked at the computer, and figured the next bid was starting. _Amazing how much I know is going on just by sounds_, Alan thought sarcastically.

Billy looked up from the computer and gave Alan's seated form a sad look, before looking at the bid amount. He knew when the Tracy's placed a bid, because they made the big jump taking out all but one other bidder. He watched with some satisfaction as the bid became $108,000 and knew that the next one from the Tracy's would cause a stir. As it reached $110,000, Billy pushed a button and watched Alan.

His thoughts were cut off by a sudden sting in his right arm that tingled all the way down his arm. Grunting in confusion, Alan tried to move his arm, but the feeling was overridden by a stronger sting to his stomach. The unexpected feeling caused him to jump and yelp. _What is going on?_ He thought then remembered the things that Billy had stuck to him were in the general area of the stings.

A zap on the left side of his chest was followed by one to his right. His muscles contracted on their own and tried to pull him right then left. The tingling feeling he had felt in his arm was now spreading all over his chest and stomach. Groaning at the discomfort, he tried to catch his breath and stop shaking. _What the Hell are you doing, Billy?_ He wanted to yell.

His short respite was broken by another round of stings and zaps. This one he felt on his back, which arched from the stimulus, and on his left shoulder.

"Seems your family caught on fast, Alan," Billy called from the computer as the bid closed. Alan grunted in confusion, "They started out bidding high, but slowed when you they saw you dancing in the chair. Course the dance also intrigued the competition, and they gave you that second shocking."

_Are you kidding me?_ Alan tried to say, but it was stopped by the gag.

Billy seemed to understand though because he chuckled, "That's right, Alan, I was putting electrodes on you before. I can make you squirm with the push of a button. And it is a very popular thing to watch among my clientele."

Alan sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes behind the blindfold; _great sick people that buy kids, also like to watch them get electrocuted and squirm!_

"Don't worry, though," Billy sneered, "It won't cause lasting or permanent damage; just an uncomfortable feeling for a while."

Alan's throaty growl was cut off by a more intense shock to his stomach, turning it to a cry of pain.

The gag muffled most of the cry, but Billy knew the shock hurt. Watching as Alan tried to control his ragged breathing, Billy smiled sadly; he wasn't someone that enjoyed watching others in pain, but he knew that other people – people with a lot of money – did enjoy it.

Keeping the shocks to different areas and different settings, Billy gave Alan enough time to recover before shocking him again. Alan quickly gave up holding in the tears, but honestly, with half of the shocks set at high levels, Billy didn't blame him.

Alan had tried to hold the tears, but gave up when a particularly strong shock to his back took his breath away for a moment. When he could breathe again, he took deep, shuddering breaths; but his lungs ached if it was too deep.

His throat was soon sore and scratchy from crying out in pain. He hated that he was letting so much out, but couldn't stop it most of the time; the shocks came unexpected to him and gave him little chance to hold back.

After an hour, Alan was covered in a sheen of sweat, and Billy gave him a little longer to recover between shocks. He also noticed that Alan's head was drooped in exhaustion, but shot up when a strong shock was sent through him.

_I really hope none of my family is watching this,_ Alan tiredly thought after another shock, _especially Gordon, Tin, and Fermat. They are too close to for me to want them to see me like this!_

Alan's body shook from the tension that had built up from continued zapping to his muscles. The last hour, Billy only shocked him a few times, keeping him awake.

When the three hours were done, Billy gave Alan one last shock to bring him to awareness then turned off the camera. "We're done now, Alan," Billy informed as he walked up to the shaking boy trying to breathe deeply through his nose. Taking out and drying the gag, Billy watched Alan try to slow his panting, "Breath in your nose and out your mouth, it'll help."

Alan did as suggested and soon calmed his breathing; but he still sat tense and shaking. Billy gently removed the six electrodes from Alan's skin, and the blonde relaxed some. "How are you feeling?" Billy asked as he undid the ankle bindings.

"Do I have to answer?" Alan croaked out; his throat burning with the effort.

"You don't have to," Billy replied undoing Alan's wrists as he spoke, "But if I knew, I could help you feel better."

"Why do you care?" Was the scratchy reply.

"It may not seem like it, Alan," Billy said lifting and holding Alan on his feet, "But keeping you comfortable is my way of making up for putting you through the ringer."

"Then, I feel like crap," Alan said flatly.

Billy nodded in understanding, grabbing the chair and leading Alan to the table he sat the blonde down, "Do I have to tie you down or will you stay here and behave?"

Alan rubbed feeling back into hands, "I would rather not be tied," he said solemnly, "Especially by my wrists." Another tremor racked his body.

"Those tremors are an aftereffect of the shocking," Billy said when he noticed, "They may last a while. And I'll get some more cream for your wrist, but only if you stay put and don't remove the blindfold."

Alan nodded, but groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach as his abdomen muscles clenched and spazzed painfully.

Billy left youngest Tracy to ride the tremor and got his small medical kit and some food. Closing the door behind him, Billy walked back to Alan as the younger stiffly straightened. "Here, have some water," Billy said putting a cup with a straw in Alan's hand.

Alan took small sips but quickly finished the cup, the cool water soothing his throat. Another spasm casue Alan to grip the cup so tightly it shattered in his hand; a groan escaping his mouth. Billy caught Alan's injured right hand, before he could rub it on anything; glass was stuck in his palm. "You got some glass stuck in your hand," Billy said softly, grabbing tweezers from then med box, "I'm going to have to take it out. Try not to move your hand."

"Sorry," Alan whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Billy murmured, gripping Alan's wrist firmly, "I'm going to take the glass out now." Alan hissed and involuntarily tried to pull away, "Easy, Alan," Billy soothed. After working for fifteen minutes, "That's the best I can do for you," Billy declared sitting up, "How does it feel?"

"Painful," was Alan's simple response.

"I'm going to but some antibiotic on it, now, then wrap it up," Billy explained as he dug around in his supplies, "It might sting and burn at first."

Alan nodded and grimaced as Billy applied the antibiotic. Just as Billy was taping off the gauze, another round of muscle spasms struck, taking Alan's breath away with a strangled cry.

"Think you can hold some food down?" Billy asked as Alan tried to breathe deeply.

"Not yet," Alan gasped rubbing his sore muscles, "My stomach hurts from my muscles clenching."

"I can give you something for the pain, and maybe lessen the spasms," Billy offered.

"I really would rather not be taking drugs," Alan said with a small smile, "Can't really tell what they are right now."

"Alright," Billy smiled at Alan's attempt of a good mood, "How about I take care of your wrists and ankles, then?"

Alan nodded and held out his right wrist for Billy to treat. The ointment didn't sting as much this time, but it noticeably relieved the burning ache in his wrist. This time, when Billy finished rubbing the cream in, he also wrapped a strip of gauze around the joint to help protect it.

Alan breathed through the next convulsion his muscles caused, curling in on himself to try and relieve the pain. Billy had, by this time, finished applying the cream to Alan's sore ankles and also wrapped them.

After another ten minutes the tremors became small shakes and shivers. "Think you can eat now?" Billy offered again.

"Yeah," Alan said tiredly.

"Another turkey sandwich and a sliced apple," Billy said sliding the plate in front of Alan. He stood up and pushed Alan's chair closer to the table too, "Think you can handle eating on your own?"

"Yes," Alan said, tentatively patting in front of him, trying to find the plate. Billy gently took Alan's left hand and moved it to the sandwich. Alan muttered, "Thanks," as Billy walked away.

As Billy worked at the computer, he kept an eye on the blonde as he ate. Finishing the sandwich, Alan asked, "What happens now?"

"Your father and one other bidder are the only ones left, so they are going to submit one more bid," Billy said, standing up and moving towards the table, "This one will be blind, though, and won't happen for a another five hours."

"Blind?" Alan wondered finishing off the apple slices.

"They are going to submit one last bid, but not know what the other person bid," Billy began, " I will be the only one to know who bid what, and then will inform the winner how to pay and were to find you. The loser will be notified of their loss, but otherwise all communication is cut between me and them."

"And why is it five hours?"

"They are going to see a rerun of the last four tapings," Billy explained, "You and I will just wait it out here."

"Oh boy," Alan grumbled. Stifling a yawn, Alan spoke again, "And when do you tell them that the bid will be blind?"

"I already told the other bidder," Billy paused, "Thought you may like to talk to your family again. But this time, there will be some restrictions.

"Restrictions?" Alan asked confused, "How so?"

"We'll call them with a burn phone," Billy answered, "So they don't have a visual, and I will enforce that you can only talk to one person."

"How are you going to enforce that?" Alan said skeptical.

"I'll talk to them fist, explain the blind bid," Billy answered, "Then you can have some time to talk with that one person. The phone will be on speaker, if more than one person talks, then I end the call. Otherwise I'll leave you to the conversation. So, who are you going to call?"


	16. Instructions

_**Scott's Hotel**_

He had just gotten back from talking with the FBI, demanding information on the investigation. The only answer he got, however, was 'it is ongoing, Mr. Tracy'. He had eventually sat around, inconspicuously looking over shoulders, for an hour. He discovered that the search was being focus around a radius within in an hour's drive of the park.

He decided to go back to the hotel and talk to his father. Closing the door with a sigh, Scott walked over to the dresser and threw his car keys down on it. Taking his phone out, it started vibrating before he could put it down. Frowning at the number, Scott flipped it open and answered the call, "Scott Tracy, here."

"_Hey, Scott"_ Alan voice greeted him.

"Alan!" Scott sat in surprise, "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"_He is where has been for the last day, Scott,"_ an unfamiliar voice said calmly, _"we are calling so you can pass a message to your father."_

"You know that when I find you," Scott growled, "There won't be anything for the cops to find." As he talked, Scott opened his e-mail and sent a quick message to John; telling him to trace the call coming into his cell.

"_Alan was just telling me how you were protective," _the man chuckled, _"But that isn't the reason for this call. Now, are you going to let me tell you what you need to tell your father or should i hang up now and take away any chance of you seeing Alan again?"_

Scott got a response from John, acknowledging the request. Scott then returned his focus to the phone conversation, "I'll listen, but I want to talk to Alan."

"_You will get that chance,"_ was the response, _"Now; this is what you are to tell your father: the next five hours will show reruns of the last twenty hours. At the end of those five hours, he and one other person are going to submit a final bid. This is going to be blind, and only I will know both the bids. After they are submitted, I will wait an hour and call the winner to tell them where to find Alan. The loser will be notified of their loss last," _the man paused letting the instructions sink in,_ "Think you can handle that?"_

Scott ground his teeth to suppress the first retort that came to mind, instead saying, "Shouldn't be too difficult."

"_Good,"_ was the sneering reply, _"Here's baby brother."_

Scott heard the phone being passed around, then Alan, _"Hi, Scooter."_

"Hey, Sprout," Scott responded kindly, "Good to hear from you. How are you doing?"

"_I'm doing fine. And if you had been home earlier, you could have talked to me," _Alan said sarcastically, _"Where are you, anyways? Did you replace Gordo already? Seems a little early."_

"No, Sprout," Scott smiled, "I flew Brains out to get Fermat, and then stayed to harass the cops."

"_Doubt that has worked very well,"_ Alan snorted, _"They probably still think I ran away or something."_

"Actually, I wouldn't know, they keep stone walling me. My best glare did even work!" Scot exclaimed trying to get Alan to laugh.

It worked; Alan gave a small chuckle, _"Either you have lost your touch,"_ Alan said, a smile in his voice, _"Or the cops are made of sterner stuff in Vermont than other places."_

"Considering my glare still worked on your school administration," Scott retorted, "I would say it is sterner stuff more than me losing my touch."

"_Course you would say that," _Alan snorted.

"I do have a reputation to up hold you know," Scott laughed.

"_Which one? Your mother hen or protective overdrive reputation?"_

"I'm taking the protective overdrive option," Scott said, reading another e-mail from John telling him to keep talking. "Hey, Sprout, I saw that picture you drew."

A groan from Alan came over the phone, _"I really wish you hadn't. It wasn't my best work."_

"I would have to disagree, baby brother," Scott refuted, "I think even Virgil would have a hard time beating it. I especially liked your cloud work."

"_The focus was on the tree, Scooter," _Alan sighed.

"I didn't say I didn't see the tree," Scott said, "That was done very well. But only you would find a way to express yourself so well using clouds."

"_Were the shapes obvious?"_ Alan sounded worried.

"Nah, Alan," Scott quelled, "I just noticed one odd shape that I would recognize anywhere, and then looked for the other ones."

"_Of course you would see that one,"_ Alan said, knowing Scott was talking about the Thunderbird One cloud, _"That was the one I focused on the most."_

"I knew I liked you! We think alike," Scott smiled.

"_Sorry to interrupt this touching conversation,"_ the man cut in,_ "But you, Scott, need to tell your father about the blind bid."_

Scott let out a slow breath to keep his anger in check, before grinding out, "So you said."

"_Bye, Scooter!" _Alan called out.

"Bye, Sprout," Scott softened his voice, "I'll see you soon, buddy."

"_A word of advice,"_ the man began, _"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Scott."_

Before Scott could respond the call was disconnected and a dial tone sounded. Signing in frustration, Scott called his father's vid-phone in the office, "Please tell me you got something, John."

"Not an exact location, no," John shook his head sadly, "But I did determine that he was calling from in Vermont."

"Well," Scott sighed sitting back, "That corresponds with the FBI's theory that he didn't drive more than an hour from the park."

"What was the call about, Scott?" Jeff said coming into view. Scott then explained about the blind bid and about the next five hours being a repeat of what they had already watched. Jeff sat down heavily; he had seen the last of the repeating feed of Alan being electrocuted. "I guess I could say I'm happy this is almost over."

"But you really don't feel that way, do you?" Scott questioned.

"No, Scott," Jeff sighed, "I don't."

Wanting to cheer his father and brother up, Scott decided to tell them about his conversation with Alan. "I spoke to Alan," he began, immediately getting the attention of his family, Virgil and Gordon walking in at that time too.

"How'd he look?" Gordon asked quietly.

"We only talked on my cell," Scott explained, "But he sounded good. Got him to laugh some, too, so he isn't too down."

"I think he's handling it better that all of us," Virgil said slumping against his father's desk.

"He hasn't lost hope," John said, "That is what's keeping him going; hope that we will come and get him."

"How are we going to ensure we get him?" Scott said looking at his father.

"Give this guy a high bid that whoever else is bidding would be hard pressed to match," was the solemn, but firm, response.

"How high are you going to go?" Gordon asked, worry in his voice.

"Doesn't matter," Virgil said, "This guy played his cards just right and will get a large sum of cash out of this, no matter what."

"Right now all I want is to get Alan back," Jeff said evenly, then looked at John, "How small an area did you get?"

"Only a little smaller than the FBI's search grid, but I would need more live feed or another call to get anything better," he said forlornly.

"I'll let the authorities now the new search area, even if _they_ won't tell me anything," Scott said, working his jaw in frustration.


	17. Long wait

"Need to use the bathroom?" Billy asked as he put away the phone. A tired nod from Alan was all he got for an answer. Gently lifting the boy to his feet, Bill led him to the bathroom. Like the last time, he removed the blindfold and closed the door.

Alan squinted in the light and rubbed his eyes; then stumbled to the toilet.

"How you doing in there, kid?" Billy knocked after a few minutes.

"I'm done," was the response, punctuated with a flush.

"Same as last time, Alan," Billy said, unlocking the door, "Kneel facing the wall, hands on your head and eyes closed."

Alan did as instructed, leaning his head against the wall as well, _damn I'm tired! I can barely hold my head up…_"You can come in, Billy," he called drowsily.

"Jeeze, kid," Billy said walking in, "You look like the wall is the only thing holding you up."

As Billy tied the blindfold, Alan answered, "You try three hours of electrocution and then stay awake…not to mention only running on five hours of sleep for the past…" Alan paused thinking, "I don't even _know_ how long!"

"How does a power nap sound, then?"

"Gonna h'pp'n wheth'r you wan' it to or no'," Alan slurred before a jaw popping yawn stopped him.

"Guess that's a yes," Billy chuckled, supporting Alan on his feet.

"Duh," was Alan's quiet response as he swayed.

"Shit!" Billy swore; catching Alan as his knees buckled. Alan groaned, but didn't make any move to stand on his own. "Guess you do like your sleep," Billy whispered as he picked Alan up and carried him to the bed; Alan's head falling back limply.

After cuffing Alan's right ankle to the bed frame, Billy left the room and came back with a light blanket. Draping it over the sleeping blonde, Billy smiled to himself. _This kid has handled this better than any of the others. They were all crying, screaming, or silent. The screamers, however, screamed into a gag, _Billy thought wryly, _course four older brother's does stiffen the spine._

Billy went back to the computer and set up the next five hours of video. As he set the recordings to play on the web page, a private chat window popped up:

**Boss1: **_**Been watching the auction, Kip. Nice article for sale. Where'd you find the bidders?**_

Billy had been expecting his mentor to contact him for some time and knew that his mentor was far from impressed; the use of 'Kip' was what tipped Billy off. 'Kip' was always his mentor's pet name if Billy messed up. One of his first lessons was 'never involve the family' and Billy knew his mentor had figured out Alan's family's involvement.

**Prentice2: **_**Thank you, sir. Found it lying around. High interest got the bidders.**_

**Boss1: **_**Seems you need a refresher in sales, Kip.**_

**Prentice2: **_**No, sir. I prepared for the worst, as I was also taught.**_

**Boss1: **_**We'll see how it plays out, then. I expect to see you after your getaway.**_

The chat ended, before Billy could respond, not that he would have anyway; there was no arguing with his mentor. And he knew that two weeks after the end of this auction, he had to go 'home'. But he needed two weeks to lay low and disappear; two weeks to 'getaway'.

Sighing, Billy looked over at Alan's slumbering form, _for your sake, Alan, this better work like it has always worked…_

After Alan had slept for an hour, Billy gently shook Alan's shoulder, "Time to wake up, Alan."

"Mmmm," Alan grumbled, "F've mo'e mi'ut's," then curled into a tight ball under the blanket.

"No, Alan," Billy said softly with another shake, "Things to do, little time to do it."

An annoyed groan came from the groggy blonde, followed by a grouchy, "You have terrible bed side manners."

Chuckling Billy responded, "That may be so, but if it is what gets you up, so be it."

"And what is so important?" Alan grumbled, "Not like you have to tie me to a chair or give me a jolt…" Alan paused, a frown on his face, "Or is there?"

"No, there isn't," Billy replied; taking Alan by his shoulders and sitting him up, "But doesn't mean you can sleep the remaining four hours away."

Alan stifled a yawn and moved to rub his eyes; Billy quickly, by gently, grabbed his wrist, "Sorry," Alan muttered, "Force of habit."

"S'okay," Billy drawled, releasing Alan's wrists, "Now, time to walk around some."

"Really?" Alan sighed, "We can skip that and sleep…works just fine for me."

"No," Billy said firmly, undoing the ankle cuff, "Because it would only be ten more minutes, not like it's another hour. It'll wake you up, too," Billy got Alan standing, "Come on."

"Coffee would work, too," Alan griped.

"That'll stunt your growth," Billy chuckled and led Alan around the room.

"Didn't stop my brother," Alan tried.

"You do realize that now that you're up and walking around, it really doesn't matter, right?"

Alan rolled his eyes under the blindfold and sighed, "It's the principle of the thing. Besides, I could fall asleep in no time, so let's turn around," Alan said, trying to go back to where, he thought, the bed was.

Billy just shook his head and pulled Alan they way he had been walking, "Give it up, Alan, you are staying awake for the next four hours."

_**Tracy Island**_

Jeff, John, Virgil, and Gordon were all sitting in the office; watching the rerun of Alan sitting in the chair change to Alan sleeping. Brains and Fermat had arrived back to the island a little after Scott had called. Tin-tin and Fermat were now out on the beach, trying to be strong for their friend; and knowing that the adults of the island were hiding something from them.

Fermat had suggest they hack the system, to see what the Tracy's were watching, but Tin-tin felt that they were being kept in the dark for a reason; no matter how much she wanted to know.

Brains was trying to enhance the search John had done on the live feeds and phone call, and was still in his lab working on it.

"Dad?" Gordon broke the silence that had fallen over the office; the Tracy's content to watch Alan sleep before seeing the more distressing recordings.

"Yes, Gordon?" Jeff looked to his second youngest.

"What do you think this guy was doing to Alan when the feed was repeating, what he's doing now?" Gordon asked with a chagrinned voice.

John put a strong arm around Gordon's shoulders and looked worriedly at his father. "I…" Jeff sighed, "I don't know, son. My _hope_ is nothing more than move him. Alan didn't seem hurt in any of the videos, or while we talked to him. And Scott thought he sounded okay, considering."

"I'm sure Alan is fine, Fish," John cut in, "He would have said if he was hungry, this is Alan were talking about," a small twitch at Gordon's mouth told John he had reassured his brother some, "That tells me, nothing bad is happening off camera."

"But, what if…" Gordon took a shuddering breath, "What if it isn't _our_ Alan that comes back? I can't go through life without my partner in crime," Gordon wiped at tears he refused to let fall.

"He will come back to us," Virgil said strongly, kneeling in front of Gordon, "And we will be strong for him, like he is being strong for us."

"Together," Jeff said, "Nothing can stop our family. We will work together and all get past this."

"Don't forget," John said with a small squeeze, "He's a Tracy. Stubborn as Hell."


	18. Unwanted Attention

"How's the hand?" Billy asked as he sat Alan down; tying a rope around Alan's torso again.

"It's fine," Alan muttered; even though it actually really hurt, burned, and itched.

"Hmmm," Billy said sitting down and taking Alan's right hand in his, "Why don't we have a look anyway."

Alan felt the gauze being unwrapped, and tried to pull his hand away; his stubbornness kicking in, "I said it was fine."

Taking a firm grip on Alan's wrist, Billy held it still and continued unwrapping the bandage. "You have also been shielding it, and if you did manage to bump it, you winced and grimaced in pain," Billy stated matter-of-factly.

As Billy gently peeled the bloody gauze away, it pulled at the drying scabs; making Alan's palm began bleeding again, "My wrist and ankles are also hurt, how'd do you know they weren't what made me wince?" Alan griped.

"I know," Billy began, gently prodding Alan's palm; causing him to hiss and try to pull his hand back again, "Because, your hand is in rough shape. I'm going to guess that it's painful and burns. Tell me, am I wrong?"

Alan frowned and turned his head away, _so what if it does! My brothers have had worse, I can handle this…_Billy touched his palm again, drawing another hiss. Breathing through his nose, Alan let out an annoyed sigh, "What does it matter? It probably needs more help than you can give it."

Billy took out the antibiotic and began applying it, "It matters because I need to tell whoever wins the bid. Because the injury happened after they could see it, I may need to give some money back, so they can treat it…or not."

"Sorry to decrease in value," Alan said scornfully.

Wrapping a new bandage, Billy chuckled, "You really have a wide range of attitudes. You started tense and scared, became more scared, then resistant. Next you were complying, though a little unwilling, then you became really pissed then stubborn, back to tense, showed a little hope, and now you are being stubbornly resistive."

When Billy finished, Alan pulled his hand back and held it protectively against his stomach, "And that is a good day," he finally responded, "You should see me when my temper really flares."

"I'm sure it is very entertaining," Billy said standing and patting Alan's shoulder.

Alan heard Billy open a door and walk out of the room. Really tired of ropes holding him in place, he started pulling and twisting, trying to loosen the rope around his chest and upper arms. _Where'd you learn to tie ropes, the boy scouts?_ He thought angrily as there was no give. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Alan stopped struggling.

Billy had been watching from the door and smiled as he walked back to the seething blonde, "You get rope burn yet?" He taunted.

"No," Alan grumbled, "Thought you said you didn't have to tie me to a chair again."

"Well," Billy mused, sitting again, "That was more along the lines of sitting you in front of a camera tied to a chair. This was more so you wouldn't try running around, you aren't as compliant as you were earlier; so I couldn't give you the opportunity." Taking out another cream, Billy began putting it on the red spots where the electrodes had been; starting on Alan's left shoulder.

Alan flinched from the touch, "What are you doing?"

"Calm down," Billy said firmly, and continued to rub the cream into Alan's shoulder, "This will help with the burns from the electrodes, and will relax your muscles."

Alan shivered from the cold cream, "And how bad are these burns?" Alan asked, flinching again as Billy moved to his right shoulder, _I really don't want to be touched!_

"Just first degree," Billy explained, "Like a sun burn. This will keep the burns from itching and peeling."

Alan couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips as Billy began applying the cream to his back, through the slots in the chair, "Really, I can live with itchiness," he said weakly. Clearing his throat he spoke more confident, "I mean…I've had bad sunburns before, this is nothing."

Billy stopped applying the cream to Alan's back and stepped in front of him. Billy looked at Alan's face and saw him biting his lower lip nervously, "It isn't only for the burns, Alan, it helps your muscles relax after so much stimulus and clenching," he tried to calm the blonde.

"My muscles are fine," Alan muttered, "Please, stop," he finished weakly. _I can't even tell him to back off! What is wrong with me?_ He thought.

Billy watched Alan try to suppress another shudder and sighed, _this has just become a tricky balancing act, great, _he thought shaking his head, _kid's scared of being touched but this cream is a necessity for the burns to heal and not leave a mark…sorry kid, but got to make you look as 100% as possible…_ "Alan," Billy got the boy's attention, "I have to so this. It isn't only for you."

Alan turned his head towards Billy and took a calming breath, "Meaning you have to make me look as healthy as possible," he swallowed.

"Yes, Alan," Billy responded; impressed with how perceptive Alan was, "That is what I mean. Some things I have to do whether you like it or not."

"I could do it," Alan tried.

"No, you can't," Billy said firmly, "Now I'm going to finish," Billy warned before putting cream onto the right side of Alan's chest.

Alan bit his lip again, to stop another whimper, and tried not to shudder. _Only two more, I can handle this…this is nothing,_ he told himself.

Billy moved to the left side of Alan's chest silently, feeling small tremors under his hand. Alan involuntarily jumped as Billy move to his stomach; then tried to stay as still as possible. Billy could tell, even with the blindfold, Alan had his eyes squeezed shut and was clenching his jaw; trying not to cry out.

"I'm done, Alan," Billy said wiping off his hands.

Alan took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. Billy left to put away his supplies, giving Alan time to compose himself.

Sitting back down, Billy gave Alan a long look. "I got to hand it to you Alan," he finally spoke, "You are one of the few kids that has stayed this strong willed."

Alan tilted his head, gauging Billy's words, "How do you mean?" He wondered.

"Most of the time the kid is crying, begging me to stop, screaming to be let go, or silent and withdrawn, having lost all hope. Course the screamers I had gagged the whole time, except for feeding. And the criers I had to constantly clean their faces…" Billy paused with a sigh, "But you have done little begging, your crying was pretty well justified, and your screaming usually happened when the gag was going to be in anyways. You haven't withdrawn yet though. Mind if I ask why?"

Alan dropped his head, contemplating how to answer, finally deciding on, "It has never been in me to give up, I guess," Alan lifted his head, "Giving up means I have no control of the outcome," he added, thinking of his earlier dream.

"Interesting," Billy muttered, "Got to admit, you are one of a kind, Alan."

Alan shook his head, "There is a whole family of men stubborn and continuously fighting the odds."

"Let me guess," Billy said standing, "Your brothers?"

Alan nodded, "Had to learn it from somewhere."


	19. Plan of Action

"Why does it have to be _five_ hours?" Virgil exclaimed getting up and pacing.

"Technically," John said raising his hand, "It's only three hours now."

Virgil glared at his older brother and growled. "Dude," Gordon half smiled, "You are so channeling Scott right now!"

Virgil paused in mid-step and thought about Gordon's words; finally he shrugged and continued his pacing, "Someone has to bring big brother here…at least in spirit."

Jeff silently listened to his middle sons' banter, sadly noting that it lacked the normal energy. The feed was still playing Alan sleeping, and he figured it would for another half hour.

John noticed his father's withdrawn silence, and gestured at his brothers; bring it to their attention as well. Virgil stopped his pacing and walked over to his father, "Dad?" He called, putting a strong hand on Jeff's shoulder.

Jeff glanced at third son, and gave a small smile, "What is it Virgil?"

"How you doing?" Virgil asked softly.

John and Gordon came towards him now, both looking worried, "I'm fine, boys," Jeff reassured, "Really, I am."

"Dad," John said quietly, but firmly, "You have had to watch your youngest son, scared, bound and gagged. You have had to _bid_ on him to try and bring him home. You can't say that you are fine, and expect us to believe you."

"If anything," Gordon said kneeling in front of his father, "You should be having the hardest time."

"Add that with trying to be strong for your other sons," Virgil continued, "You have to admit, 'fine' isn't an appropriate description for a time like this."

Jeff looked into the concerned eyes of his three sons, and sighed heavily. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of a group hug; and no one was holding back tears.

Brains, came in to this, hating to break it up. Coughing, Brains waited for the four men to get control of their emotions again, "I w-w-was a-a-able to na-na-na-shrink the s-s-search a-a-a-field."

John recovered quickly, and latched on to what Brains had said, "Did you find him?"

"N-n-not t-the e-e-exact lo-lo-lo-spot, no," Brain shook his head, "B-b-but I d-did g-g-get the a-a-area d-down t-to a t-ten m-m-mile r-r-radius of th-the pa-pa-pa-site."

"That's still a lot of ground," Virgil said dejectedly, "The three hours will be done by the time half of that is searched."

"But," Jeff said with new strength, "It is a lot better than what we had. Gordon, call Scott and have him update the FBI and police. Brains if you could send Scott the specifics, please," Brains nodded and hurried out of the room. Gordon got up, walking towards the window, and dialed his oldest brother.

"John," Jeff continued, "I want you to put the Thunderbirds on standby. And Virgil, go prep Tracy One; we are going to Vermont and getting Alan back."

_**Scott's hotel**_

"Dad does realize that before you guys even get here, he will have to place his blind bid, right?" Scott asked Gordon after hearing the last of Jeff's statement.

"_Yeah, I think he realizes that, Scottie,"_ Gordon replied, _"But I don't think he cares, he is going to be there to get Alan. And so are we."_

"And what if this guy sees him coming and runs with Alan? Then we lose any chance of getting Alan," Scott reasoned.

"_What are you getting at, Scott? You want us to stay here?"_ Gordon asked confused, _"Hold on, Dad wants to talk to you."_

"_There a problem, Scott?" _ Jeff's voice came on the phone.

"Not a problem," Scott sighed, "But Dad, think about it. You rushing over hear when there is still so much time until you place a bid, how do you know this guy isn't watching the airports or police scanners. He has been a step ahead this whole time, Dad," Scott pointed out, "You can't just show up and not expect him to act rashly."

Scott heard Jeff sigh,_ "I hear you, Scott. And you have very valid points. But we can't stay here and sit on our hands waiting and watching reruns of Alan in pain,"_ Jeff explained his thoughts,_ "How else should we go about this?"_

"Wait a little longer, Dad," Scott pleaded, "Wait at least an hour, maybe two. That way, you will still be in the air when you need to place the bid, and you will arrive about the time that he calls for instructions to get Alan," Scott expressed; no doubt in his mind that Alan wasn't coming back to them, "You show up before that, and who knows what will happen."

"_When did you get so smart?"_ Jeff grumbled.

Scott smiled sadly, "It isn't being smart, Dad," he said softly, "It's just my judgment isn't clouded from watching Alan being hurt. My head is clearer than yours and Gordon's and Virgil's, heck even clearer than John's!"

Jeff gave a small chuckle, _"Virgil was channeling you earlier…I think you just channeled Alan."_

Scott's heart twinged at the mention of his baby brother, swallowing hard, he responded, "That mean you are going to wait?"

Jeff sighed again, tiredly, _"Yeah, Scott, we'll wait; but no more than an hour and a half. Then we are flying out and will meet up with you."_

"Alright," Scott nodded to himself, "I'll see you in little under five hours, and together we will get Alan. But if you are going to be late for the party…I'm starting without you!"

"_Isn't it over an hour's drive from the school?"_ Jeff thought.

"Uh, yeah," Scott thought to himself, "But I'll get the school or local cops to clear a landing strip for you. But plan on a very small one, the optimal one I can get is a strip of road near the school; the next option would be the school's athletic fields. I'll call you with the details before you take off."

"_Alright, see you soon, Scott,"_ Jeff said goodbye before ending the call.


	20. Killing Time

"Not that this isn't interesting," Alan said as Billy spun, "But isn't the point of _Life_ to have two players?"

Billy snickered as he counted out the spaces for his car, "We are playing two player; you just can't see the board."

They had been playing _The Game of Life_ for the past forty-five minutes. And all Alan had done was sit there and listen to Billy move the cars around and tell Alan what his car landed on. Alan figured that Billy was telling him what he actually landed on, just because he wasn't bankrupt or had a million kids…but he really had no idea. The board could be for _Monopoly_ for all he could tell.

"Besides," Billy continued, spinning for Alan, "What else could we be doing for the next two hours or so?"

Alan sighed and let his head fall back, "I could be sitting in a shirt for starters," he was still ticked about being shirtless, "Or better yet, sleeping!"

"And what do you suggest I do whilst you sleep the time away?" Billy inquired moving Alan's car, "By the way, you just went to night school."

_Great, even in a game I have to go to school!_ Alan thought sardonically, "You didn't have to make it five hours for the blind bid," he quipped in response to Billy's question.

"True," Billy shrugged, "Guess I like to get to know people that are interesting. And you, Alan, are interesting. And I find you learn a lot about a person, spending time with them; board games can really help too."

"Great," Alan said lifting his head, "And what have you found that makes me so interesting?"

"For starters you have a very witting and quick mind," Billy said, taking a life chip, "That is something that is rare to find, and I never saw in the other kids; fear kept in down if they did have it. You used it to hide your fear."

"So glad I could change things up for you."

Billy smiled, "Second, I found you have a vast array of emotions, some controlled, others, not so much. Third," Billy ticked off, while spinning for Alan again, "In the last hour of playing this game, I have found you hate sitting still. You are more an active doer, than a quite sitter. Even now, whether you realize it or not, you are fidgeting and playing with the bandage around your right wrist, while avoiding the one on the same hand. Your leg also bounces and taps."

As his nervous habits were pointed out, Alan stopped what he was doing, trying to still himself. _Guess you can learn a lot from a board game_, Alan thought, a little intrigued. "And now that you know those things about me, what do I get to know about you. It is only fair, and seeing as I can't see for myself, you should tell me."

"How about I'm about to win this game," Billy said nonchalantly, moving his car into the _Countryside Acres_ finish.

"Not really what I meant," Alan said dryly, "I was thinking something more personal, like you knowing my nervous habits or that I can't sit still."

Billy began quietly picking up the board game, and ruminated on how to answer, _I could just say 'no' and leave it at that. But Alan will probably push the matter…annoyingly so. I could lie, fake name means fake personality. And if I told him the truth, he really would know for sure, because again, he doesn't know if anything I tell him is true…decisions, decisions…_A soft chime from the computer drew Billy from his thoughts. "Hold on to that question, Alan, got to check on something."

Alan turned his head, following Billy's movements as he went to the computer. Frowning slightly he asked, "Something wrong?"

Billy checked the computer, it was an update on the police search, _they're getting closer to the dummy site…which means there is more to the Tracy's than I thought, 'cause I know the cops and the FBI wouldn't have gotten that close._ Looking at Alan's confused face, Billy narrowed his eyes, _could just be that owning Tracy Enterprises they would have better equipment…course that's what the dummy site was for, decoy any searches there…shouldn't interfere with the my escape and Alan being found early._ That figured out, Billy walked back to Alan and answered him, "No, nothing is wrong, just an e-mail."

Alan nodded, still unsure, _not like I expected him to tell me…but something came up, and has him worried, at least a little..._Alan didn't pursue it though, instead brought Billy back to his earlier question, "So you going to tell me something about yourself?"

Billy snorted, "I figured you wouldn't let that go. Guess it wouldn't hurt telling you _one_ thing," he put emphasis on 'one' so Alan knew that there was no leeway after, "Let me think…" Billy paused, "Got it! Bet you would never had figured out that I like to fish on weekends."

Alan tilted his head, thinking about the answer, "May not have been my first guess, but I would have guessed it eventually."

"Oh," Billy smiled, "And what would have brought you to that conclusion."

"You like quiet," Alan stated, "Fishing is a very quiet sport. You also have patience, another must for fishing; which is why I don't like it."

"And what tells you I like quiet?"

"You gagged me when there was no way I could tell anyone watching anything or that they would have understood what I said. You also said you gagged the screaming kids," Alan explained.

"And how'd you get patient?"

"You don't act without thinking," Alan reasoned, "Everything is planned, and there are back up plans."

"And I just learned you are very perceptive for you age," Billy laughed.

"I have to be," Alan shrugged, "Four brothers doesn't only mean having escape routes, it also means knowing when to use them."

_**Tracy Island**_

"Dad, let's just leave," Virgil tried.

"No, Virgil," Jeff said firmly, "I promised Scott we would wait. We have half an hour until that time is up."

"Why are we waiting though?" John asked, "We are ready to go. The hour we have waited already leaves two hours till the bid, which we will be in the air for. Then another hour to be told where Alan is. We could be touching down by that time!"

Jeff groaned inwardly, _why _did_ I agree to wait? I am even the one that suggested an hour and a half!_ "Boys, I want to be going as much as you," he held up a hand to forestall comments, "But Scott also had a point, we could spook the guy that has Alan, and lose any chance of getting him; winning bid or not. I can't risk that."

Gordon had been silent since calling Scott. He just wanted Alan back, and agreed that waiting was a good idea so as not to lose Alan; but he couldn't voice his opinion, feeling that he was betraying Alan by not rushing to him. _Alan, please don't hold it against me! I want get you back right _now_! But we can't risk scaring this guy off and him taking you with him. Hang in there baby brother, we're coming!_

"Gordo?" Virgil called; Gordon snapped back to the conversation, John, Virgil and Jeff were all looking at him, "You alright, brother? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."

"Uh, yeah," Gordon cleared his throat, "I'm fine, just a lot on my mind."

"Need to talk about it, Fish?" John asked worried, putting a hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"Nah," Gordon waved his hand indifferently, "I'm okay, nothing to worry your blonde head over, promise."

John cracked a smile, while Virgil snorted, "Yeah, he's good."

Jeff just chuckled and boarded the plane to do his preflight checks.


	21. Impatience

_**Scott's hotel**_

"_Scott,"_ Jeff said after his oldest answered the phone, _"We are leaving in five minutes."_

"Alright," Scott responded, "The local police will close down the strip of road near the school in two hours. That strip is about the length of two carrier ships, so put the brakes on quickly."

"_Thanks for the advice. We will be there in little over three hours, so most likely you will be getting the call to find Alan."_

"How are you going to place the bid while you're flying?" Scott wondered.

"_Brains is going to place the bid,"_ Jeff informed, _"And _no_, I will not tell you what the amount is. Only Brains and I know."_

"Fine, I won't ask," Scott grumbled, "Is he also going to be monitoring the feed?"

"_That's right, so he will also most likely be the one to get the call from the kidnapper…He will then call you with the directions. We should land half an hour after that."_

"We really have this timed out," Scott thought aloud with a smile, "What happens if you are late?"

"_I expect to only be early,"_ Jeff laughed, _"So there is no late option. You get Alan and we will meet you at the hotel. Then we will stay in Vermont if we have to or fly straight back here."_

"F.A.B.," Scott replied, "In under three hours I will have Alan and then will be locking him in his room never to see the light of day again!"

"_I think your brothers, and possibly me, will gladly help with that. Now it is time for us to leave, see you in a few hours._"

Scott sat heavily as he hung up. Looking at the clock, he noticed that it was seven thirty. "Nine o'clock and the bid goes in. Ten o'clock and I find were Alan is. Ten oh one and Alan is safely back in my arms," Scott said to himself. Though he knew one minute to get Alan was an extreme exaggeration, but hey, sounded better than ten twenty…

_**Alan's room**_

Alan was lying on his back on the bed, not sleeping, but more comfortable than sitting tied to a chair. He went to bend his knees, but his right one stopped short, _stupid cuff_, he thought.

Billy was moving around a lot; in the room than out, by the computer than by the bed. The best guess Alan had as to what Billy was actually _doing_ was packing. As Billy came back into the room, Alan called out, "How much longer?"

Billy snorted, "You really are impatient," Alan shrugged and plucked at the blanket he had over is still bare chest, "There is an hour until the blind bid."

"And what are you doing?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Billy called over his shoulder as he left again.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Alan waited for Billy to came back again, "I could help," he offered.

"No," Billy said, moving things around, "You really can't. You're back in the bed, why don't you sleep?"

"Because you effectively woke me up," Alan grumbled flopping back down, "Now I am so _bored_ that sleeping just seems more boring!"

Billy stopped what he was doing and moved towards the bed, looking down at the blonde, "I don't know what to tell you," he finally said, "First you want to sleep, now you can't sleep; seems these next two hours are going to suck for you."

"Thanks for bringing that to my attention," Alan sighed, "And I can _please_ have a shirt!"

Billy smiled and went back to work, "No, you can't," he responded, "Because that is how you were last seen, so that is how you are going to be picked up."

Alan groaned, _because we can't disappoint, now can we? Yes we can! I am going home; there is no need to keep me shirtless…_

Billy entered the room again and sat on the bed to the right of Alan. Alan jumped from the sudden presence and unconsciously pulled away. "Let's look at your hand again," Billy said picking up said hand.

"Let's not and say we did," Alan tried to pull away.

"Why are you so difficult about your hand being looked at?" Billy wondered while keeping a steady grip on the hand, "You are more difficult with this than you were with losing your shirt."

"I've never liked hospitals," Alan groused with a frown, "And with you insisting on looking at it, makes me feel like I'm at the doctors."

"Hmmm," Billy hummed, taking off the dirty bandage, "Well, it's a good thing I keep looking," he stated.

"And why is that?"

"Because your hand is getting infected, and will most likely need stitches" Billy said, gently prodding one of the lacerations, "Now tell me honestly, how much does it hurt."

Alan grimaced at the prodding, and sighed, "On a scale of one to ten, it's about a six," he admitted, "But I have had worse, so it really doesn't hurt."

"High pain tolerance or not," Billy said, "Six is still high, and this infection isn't going to get better on its own. The antibiotic I have can only do so much."

"And you can't take me to a hospital," Alan guessed, "So I will have to deal with the pain and possible side effects from the infection…for two hours…"

"Maybe more," Billy warned as he put a fresh bandage on, "There is no guarantee that whoever buys you will take you to get treated right away. Though the infection does mean you will eventually get some help."

"Oh goody," Alan muttered taking his hand back, "I won't be left for dead…instead I get treated and made better for who knows what." _Except my Dad is going to win, and I will be back to 100% in no time!_ Alan thought to himself.

Billy chuckled and stood up. Walking to where he had left the computer, he saw there was ten minutes left on the timer until the blind bid. "Good news Alan," he called, sitting down and prepping the bid, "Ten minutes to the bid. You see, wrapping your hand again had another purpose: killing time."

"Yay," Alan said emotionlessly and not moving. _One more hour…then this nightmare is over! Just one more hour…_


	22. Unwilling Compliance

_**Tracy One**_

Jeff glanced at his watch for the hundredth time, _the bid should be going any minute now_, he thought.

John, who was copiloting, saw the action, "You know," he said evenly, "A watched pot never boils."

Jeff cast a sheepish glance at his second oldest, "That may be. But now I know that the bid will be happening soon."

"You knew it would be happening half way through the flight," John pointed out, "Which is where we are."

Jeff shrugged and turned back to flying, "Where do you think Scott got his impatience from?"

"I had no doubts," John smirked, "It is a very common gene among my brothers."

"And you didn't get it?" Jeff quipped.

"Ha!" John snorted, "I tamed it. Being on Five, you _have_ to learn to sit on your hands and do nothing for hours on end!"

_**Scott at police station**_

"What can I do for you, now, Mr. Tracy?" The lead FBI on Alan's investigation asked, somewhat rudely.

Scott glared, but didn't snap back a retort, instead he said in a _very_ controlled voice, "Agent Sufern," he started, "Just thought I'd let check in on the search."

"Mr. Tracy, as I have told you many times…this investigation is on-going, and I cannot tell you anything. Perhaps if your father were here, then you could learn some things, but _you_ are not your father," Sufern replied snidely.

Scott ground his teeth and glared harder, satisfied when Sufern took an involuntary step back. "I may not be my father," Scott said coolly, "But I am Alan's oldest brother. I am also the closest relative at the moment. Now my _father_ is flying here right now. And I am pretty sure _he_ would like to know what is going on as soon as he touches down."

Sufern looked away from Scott's glare and at a folder in front of him, "I heard you got the road cleared so he could land closer," he replied trying to get some control back, "So I can tell him in person as soon as he lands."

That was it, Scott had had enough of this stuck up agent; the little angel on his shoulder got dropped kicked by the devil on his other shoulder, and the devil's advice became _real_ nice sounding. Scott took a step forward and got right up in Sufern's face, "I won't let you _near_ him, if that is how you are going to play it. And seeing as he would rather hear how the investigation and search for his _youngest_ son is going, that wouldn't bode well for you. I also know he will side with me, because I have very cooperative with you, despite your inability to tell me how close you are to finding my _baby_ _brother!_" Scott spoke in a very low and cold voice; but all of his anger went into his words, and Sufern was backed against a desk.

Other officers were watching the exchange, but were, quite frankly, on Scott's side; Sufern was an ass. Sufern looked around and saw he had no back up. Turing his attention back to the angry, tall, dark haired Tracy, Sufern gulped.

Satisfied with the reaction, Scott stepped back and waited.

Sufern stood up straighter and cleared his throat; saving what little dignity he had left, he began, "Well, Mr. Tracy, with the help of your brother's and friend's tracing," Sufern paused and narrowed his eyes, "Still want to know how their trace was so advanced…" Scott took a step forward, "Okay, later. The trace got us down to a ten mile radius. We then eliminated family neighborhoods and the nearest towns. This cut the search area to two thirds the size."

"Two thirds is still a lot of ground," Scott said calmly.

"Yes, and we have started searching all of it. So far door to door and driving have brought the remaining area to half the ten mile radius. Which," Sufern continued cutting off Scott's next comment, "Is still a lot of ground to cover, I know. But there is only so much we can do."

Scott glanced at his watch; it was now five minutes past nine, "The last…_bid_," he spat the word, "Should have been placed a few minutes ago. That means we will hear from the kidnapper in about an hour."

"We won't even be through half the remaining area in that time," Sufern said.

Scott ground his teeth in frustration, "I _know_ that!" Scott then stalked off; there was nothing else he could do here. In his anger, Scott barely noticed that he punched the wall on his way out, and just got in his car and headed for his hotel.

Once in his room again, Scott finally noticed his throbbing right hand. _Great, just great_, he thought angrily, _just messed up my hand…why not top it off this week with a trip to the infirmary!_ Gently prodding his abused knuckles, Scott grimaced, _probably cracked a bone or something, lovely._

Going over to the little kitchenette in his room, Scott found a standard first aid kit. Running his hand under water, he cleaned and dried his cut skin. After applying some Neosporin, Scott placed a piece of gauze over the affected area. Finishing off the crude bandage with an ace wrap to hold it all in place and stabilize his hand.

Looking at his watch, Scott flopped onto his bed, hissing when he hit his newly bandaged hand, _half an hour. Hang on for another half hour, Alan, I'm coming!_

_**Alan's room**_

"You going to tell me who had the highest bid?" Alan asked as he was led to the table and sat down.

"No," Billy replied flatly, "You will find out when the person comes to get you."

"Why not now?" Alan pushed, feeling Billy cuff his right wrist to the chair

"Because right now you are having your last meal with me," Billy responded placing a plate in front of Alan, taking Alan's left hand he put it over the plate, "This time you have a ham and cheese sandwich and carrots."

"You can still talk while I eat," Alan said picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.

"I can," Billy agreed, "But I won't."

"Can you at least tell me _why_ you won't tell me?" Alan asked between bites.

"Because in half an hour I am leaving you here and calling the winner then loser. You knowing before the winner isn't very fair, is it?"

"In your mind no," Alan grumbled, "But to me it is _very_ fair."

"Well, what I think is what matters," Billy said walking away to grab something. Coming back he continued, "When you're done we'll put fresh bandages on your wrists, ankles and hand, so eat up."

"And if I don't finish?" Alan tested.

"Then in ten minutes I will put fresh bandages on," Billy said firmly, "Whichever comes first, your choice."

Ten minutes later, Alan ate his last carrot, "Alright, wrap me up like a mummy," he said slouching back in his chair.

"Good timing," Billy said taking Alan's left wrist, "I'm going to put some more ointment on then rewrap it, alright?"

"I'm going to guess that was a rhetorical question," Alan replied sarcastically.

Smiling Billy finished applying the ointment and wrapped the wrist again. Taking Alan's left ankle, be started the process again, replying, "Yes, it was very rhetorical."

Ten minutes later, Billy finished wrapping Alan's right wrist and began undoing the hand's bandage. "Still red and ugly," Billy remarked, "Does it still hurt?"

"No more, no less," Alan answered.

Billy put a fresh bandage on silently then stood and un-cuffed Alan from the chair. Lifting Alan to his feet he began leading him across the room. "Alan," Billy finally spoke, "It has been a pleasure getting to know you, but it is time we go our separate ways."

"I don't think I could honestly return your sentiment," Alan said wryly, "But I will say 'bye'."

Billy let out a single laugh, "There's that wit," he said, taking Alan by both shoulders, "Now, I would really rather not drug you, but, I have to warn you, you aren't going to like what I have to do now. So if you resist, I will drug you. It will be a paralytic, so you will still know what is happening; you just can't put up a fight. Then you will stay that way for a while, maybe even until you are picked up. So, are you going to put up a fight, get drugged, and stay trapped in your own body with no control? Or are you going to do what I say, albeit unwillingly, and have control over your own body?"

Alan frowned, not liking either choice…or what they implied about what was about to happen. "What are you going to do, Billy?" He asked nervously.

"Put you in a locked chest," Billy responded matter-of-factly.

Alan cringed and involuntarily tried to back away; but Billy held him still. Taking a deep breath, Alan calmed himself, "Please tell me I will have enough air," Alan said weakly, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Yes, Alan," Billy said calmly, "There is plenty of air. The chest was holes in it to ensure you will have enough."

Swallowing and breathing deeply again, Alan solemnly nodded his head, "I'll do what you say, albeit _very_ unwillingly." Alan shuddered at the thought of a locked chest, and him being in it.

Billy smiled sadly, "Okay," Billy gave a gentle squeeze to the shaking shoulders in his hands, "Start with stepping to your left, lift your foot high, there, put it down," Billy instructed, "Now our right foot, good."

Alan could feel a padded surface under his feet and shuddered again, Billy held onto him the whole time; holding him up or keeping him from running, Alan had no idea, but figured probably both.

"I'm going to turn you now, Alan," Billy informed calmly, doing as he said, "Now sit down."

Alan felt Billy pushing on his shoulders and instinctively resisted, but Billy was much stronger. Holding his left hand out, Alan found the side of the chest and used it to support him as he sat down.

"Give me your hands," Billy said firmly, taking both in his hand, he began tying them together. Alan couldn't stop the whimper that escaped, "It's alright, Alan," Billy said in response, "This will keep you from hurting yourself. Now lay back, that's it," Billy said, pushing Alan gently to lie down.

Alan's breath was quick and shallow as he tried not to panic. Feeling Billy start to tie his ankles, he groaned and weakly tried to kick out of the grasp. Billy gently shushed him and continued his binding.

Alan's hands and feet bound, with a rope connecting them; making it so Alan if Alan lifted his hands, his feet went with them. Billy then knelt near the blonde's head, "Alan, I have to go now," Billy said evenly, "But before I go, I want you to promise me you won't lose yourself, no matter what happens next. Your spit fire attitude is very rare, and without it, you will lose yourself. Promise me you will hold on to it."

"You want me to promise something to you, _after_ you kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder, and then don't even tell me who the winner is?" Alan asked, his anger flaring to protect and shield him from his fear.

"Yes," was Billy's simple response.

After a minute, "I can't," Alan said weakly, "I can't promise that, because I don't know if I can keep it."

"Then promise me you will try," Billy insisted.

Alan only nodded his promise, fighting to keep his fear filled tears from falling.

"That is all I ask," Billy said softly, "Now, open your mouth."

_Is that really necessary!_ Alan wanted to scream; instead a sob escaped his throat. Breathing hard through his nose, Alan kept his mouth clamped shut.

Sighing, Billy reached over, holding Alan's head still and pinching his nose shut, "I really don't want to suffocate you, Alan," Billy said emotionlessly, "And eventually you will have to open your mouth."

Alan tried to wriggle out of Billy's grasp, but the effort just made him need air more. Finally the need for air took over, and Alan opened his mouth, gasping in as much as he could. Billy gave him a second to get air through his mouth, then quickly put the ball-gag in and lifted Alan's head to fasten it.

As Alan struggled to gulp in air through his nose, Billy stood and put a hand on the chest's lid. "I know this has been far from fun for you, Alan, but, I have to admit, you are at the top of my favorite list of kids I've taken. And I think anyone else will be hard pressed to top you, so thank you for your time, and I hope you have a reasonable life no matter where you go."

Billy heard a muffled response from Alan before he slammed the chest closed and locked it. Without looking back, Billy locked the door to the room, and took out his phone.


	23. Confirmation

_**Tracy Island**_

Kyrano and Brains were sitting in Jeff's office; both agreeing that Kyrano should take the call from the kidnapper because of Brains' stutter. Both were watching the clock as it slowly ticked its way to five o'clock; the time for the call to come.

Brains was sitting on the couch drumming his fingers impatiently; his job of placing the last, and _very_ high, bid done.

Kyrano was calmly, but tensely, sitting in Jeff's chair, hands folded on the desk.

When the phone rang at five o'clock, both men jumped. Brains nodded at Kyrano, who answered the phone and put it on speaker, "Tracy residence."

"_You don't sound like the Tracy's I have spoken with,"_ a snide voice responded.

"No, sir," Kyrano replied calmly, "The Tracy's are out at the moment. I have their permission to take this call."

"_And how do I know that what you say is true?"_

"All I have to say is, we live on an island and there would be no other way for me to answer this call," Kyrano supplied, "And I think of Alan as family in all but name."

"_I guess it really doesn't matter,"_ the voice said, _"If they don't get the message, the item will eventually die. So, are you ready to pass along the message?"_

"Yes, sir," Kyrano said, as Brains readied a pen and paper.

"_Tell the Tracy's this message,"_ the voice said blandly, _"They are the winners of the bid. The money must be transferred to this Swedish bank account: A063-280C-9957. They will find their winnings in an old warehouse near the coordinates: __43.5184 North and 73.018355 West. They will not, however be able to get in until the money is received and confirmed. If they try to get in before confirmation, the building will collapse in on itself, effectively burying anything inside. Confirmation will allow entrance to the building and disable the failsafe. The code to get in the front door is: 7652. They will then find their winnings on the lower level and in the room at the end of the hall. Any keys they will need will be found on a table near the entrance to the building."_

"Is there anything else they must know, sir?"

"_Only that the sooner they send the money the sooner they can collect their winnings,"_ with that the call ended with a click and the dial tone sounded.

Kyrano looked to Brains, "What should we do now?"

"W-we sh-should p-p-p-send th-the m-m-money, th-then c-c-call Scott," Brains stuttered, taking Kyrano's vacated seat. Brains made the transaction from the Tracy Family account to the Swedish bank account he was given. A minute after the money went through, the Swedish bank sent a confirmation; Brains and Kyrano sighed.

"Perhaps we should call Mister Scott, now," Kyrano suggested, "He will have been worrying these last fifteen minutes."

"Y-y-yes, w-we sh-sh-should," Brains nodded.

_**Scott's hotel**_

He had been pacing since the clock and turned to ten o'clock; that was ten minutes ago. He had figured that Brains and Kyrano would have had to talk to the guy that had his baby brother, but _ten minutes_ was closing in on his breaking point. "Come on, Brains, call," he muttered, "Come on, come _on_!"

Scott almost jumped out of his skin when his phone went off. Quickly grabbing it he flipped it open, "Hello?"

"_Mister Scott,"_ Kyrano's voice greeted him, _"We have received a call from the man who took Alan."_

Scott ground his teeth, "Kyrano, I really don't want to sound rude or impatient, but could you please get to the point, _where's_ Alan?"

"_Of course, Mister Scott, I am sorry. We have made the payment and acquired confirmation on it, now it is safe for you to go get Alan," _the retainer informed.

Scott interrupted before he could continue, "What do you mean it is now safe to get Alan?"

"_I will explain later," _Kyrano replied,_ "For now you must get to the coordinates 43.5184 North and 73.018355 West. Brains says that it is not near the search area, and cannot explain why."_

Scott wrote the coordinates down and headed for the door, "I don't really care about that right now," Scott said getting into the elevator.

Kyrano told Scott what to do when he got to the warehouse and were to find the keys and Alan. Scott was in his car by now, and had inputted the coordinates into his GPS. Frowning, Scott told Kyrano, "My GPS says this warehouse is half an hour from my hotel!" Holding his phone awkwardly with his injured right hand and driving with his left, Scot pulled out into the empty street and gunned it.

After all the time in the police station, he had learned were the cops liked to sit, so he would speed everywhere they weren't.

"_I am sorry to hear that," _Kyrano said sadly, _"Brains say that your father should be landing in ten minutes, perhaps you should wait for him."_

"I have to respectfully ignore that suggestion, Kyrano," Scott said, glancing at the GPS and making a sudden turn, "I am going to cut as much time as I can, and get to Alan as quickly as possible. Waiting means Alan is in that place longer."

"_I understand, Mister Scott," _Kyrano sympathized.

"Now I hate to hang up, but Vermont roads are very curvy and I am breaking a lot of speed laws," Scott said as he wiped around a dark turn. Seeing headlights up the road, Scott slowed a little.

"_Of course, I will call Mister Tracy and leave a message telling him you have gone to get Alan,"_ Kyrano said before hanging up.

Throwing his phone on to the passenger chair, Scott sped up again.

Ten minutes into his drive, Scott had already covered half the distance, _I'm coming Sprout, hang on…_

_**Alan's room**_

Alan had no idea how long he had been lying in the chest; but it felt like a life time. He had tried kicking and punching at the lid; but stopped when his right hand hurt more.

He had also given up holding his tears in and openly cried into the gag and blindfold. He had tried to get the blindfold off, but he couldn't get his hands up to pull it off and couldn't move enough to loosen it.

_Did you really have to leave me blindfolded and gagged?_ Alan thought angrily, _this just tells me that Dad didn't win the bid and some guy is going to come and make my life hell…_

_Alan,_ he jumped hearing the feminine voice, _you cannot give up. You have made it this far, why give up so near the end?_

_How can I not?_ Alan retorted then snorted, _great, now I'm arguing with myself._

A gentle laugh filled his mind, _you are not arguing with yourself, you are arguing with me; remember your guardian angel?_

_But you are in my head, _Alan thought, _so that makes it seem like I'm talking to myself…and now arguing again…I don't even know your name!_

_Oh Alan, _the angel chuckled, _my name is Marina._

_Okay…Marina, _Alan relaxed as much as he could into the padded chest, _can you tell me why I shouldn't give up? To me it seems Billy set me up nice and pretty for someone not my family._

_He could have only been doing what he always does,_ Marina countered, _or trying to make you nervous about who opened this chest whilst you cannot see, talk, or fight back._

_That isn't very comforting,_ Alan thought dryly.

_Perhaps,_ Marina replied, _but it means you can't give up. Giving up will lead to a terrible end no matter who comes. If you give up, you will lose yourself._

_Billy wanted me to promise not to lose myself, my attitude,_ Alan thought, _was he trying to tell me something?_

_Maybe he spoke from experience_, Marina suggested, _he did tell you some about his own time._

_Yeah,_ Alan nodded to himself, _but how can I hold on to hope when I don't even know how long I have been in here, or how long I will still be in here?_

_Your stay is almost through,_ Marina said kindly.

_Do you know who is coming?_ Alan asked hopefully.

_I could not tell you if I did know. I can only tell you the end is near for your time in this box, _Marina answered.


	24. Welcomed Call

_**Scott in car**_

After one final turn, Scott slammed on his brakes. Twenty minutes after leaving the hotel, he had finally gotten to the warehouse. Turning off the car, he grabbed his phone from the seat and a hand gun with a flashlight from the glove box; _never go anywhere without one,_ Scott thought to himself.

Cautiously getting out of the car and looking around, Scott turned on the little light and shone it around the small clearing. Seeing nothing that looked ready to jump out and attack him, Scott stalked over to the front door.

A key pad above the handle had a blinking yellow light, _I really hope that means the transaction was verified by the kidnapper…and not warning that a booby-trap is about to go off,_ Scott thought. Taking a deep breath he punched in the code, 7653, and the light turned green with a small beep and clicking sound.

Steeling himself, Scott turned the handle and slowly opened the door. Holding his gun at the ready and shining the light around the room, Scott saw the table with keys on it.

A vibrating from his pocket startled Scott, fishing out his phone with his left hand he awkwardly held his gun in his bandaged right. A text from John read: **Hey, we just talked to Kyrano and Brains…Where are you?**

Grumbling, Scott put his gun down on the table and cast a quick glance around, before responding: **I am at the warehouse…about to find Alan…do not text me BACK!**

Shoving his phone in his pocket, and grabbing his gun and the keys, Scott made his way slowly towards a door that lead down stairs.

_**Alan's room**_

Marina had left a while ago, leaving Alan with a warm feeling and new energy. Now he was lying in the chest, trying to stay calm and _not_ lose hope; that in itself was a feat for him.

He had tried to undo his wrist bindings, but anything that involved moving his hands, made his right hand hurt all the more. Finally giving that up, he laid his head back and tried not to think about the chest he was currently locked in.

After a few minutes, he started to hear doors opening and closing and footsteps getting closer. His heart sped up and he had trouble controlling his breathing. _Who's coming? What do I do if it isn't my family? What do I do if it _is_ my family?_ His mind started racing.

Unnoticed tears started to fall and Alan felt himself starting to go from a panicked fear to an anticipating impatience, and then back to panicked.

The door to his room finally opened, and Alan held his breath.

_**Scott in hall**_

Checking each room he passed, Scott made sure no one could sneak up on him. Finally reaching the door that the kidnapper said Alan would be in, Scott tried the handle.

It was locked, clenching his jaw in frustration, Scott tried to find the key that fit the lock, _did there really have to be ten keys on this damn chain?_

Finally getting the right key, Scott unlocked the door and opened it. His heart went to his throat when he saw a room with a table, desk, bed, and chest, but no Alan.

Silently entering the room, Scott figured this was where Alan had been held; a cut shirt was on the floor by the desk, a plate with crumbs was on the table, a lot of rope was attached to a chair and the bed, along with cuffs.

"Alan," Scott eventually called out softly. After a pause, a thud from behind him had Scott whipping around. All he saw was a chest at the foot of the bed – a chest with three locks on it!

Catching his breath, Scott rushed to the chest and knelt next to it, "Al!" He called again, gently tapping on the lid. A muffled cry and thud answered him. "I'm going to get you out, Sprout," Scott called a few tears escaping from his eyes, "Just have to unlock these stupid padlocks. Hang on, Sprout,"

Frustratingly trying to find the keys that went to each lock, because they just _had_ to be different for each one, Scott swore under his breath whenever a keyed failed.

Finally, after several minutes of incorrect keys, Scott got all three open and threw the lid open. His breath catching in his throat, Scott's heart skipped a couple beats seeing Alan trussed up, shirtless, blindfolded, and gagged. "Alan, I'm here," Scott said reaching in to undo the gag, "You're safe now, Sprout, I got you."

Once the gag was out, Alan let out a strangled sob. Feeling the blindfold loosen and fall away, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Easy, Sprout," Scott soothed as he stuck his hand gun in his waist band and took out a knife to start cutting the ropes away, "I'm getting you out of here."

"Scottie," Alan cried weakly, unable to hold back his relief driven tears.

Throwing the last of the ropes away, Scott took Alan gently by the shoulders and sat him up.

Alan immediately wrapped his arms around Scott's neck, shaking with the force of his emotions, "Shhh," Scott soothed, rubbing Alan's back, "You safe now, Sprout, I got you, shhh."

Alan cried into Scott's shoulder as Scott scooped him up; one arm under Alan's knees and the other supporting his back. Continuing to sooth his distraught brother, Scott made his way out of the warehouse.

"Alan," Scott said, putting his brother in the passenger seat and squatting in front of him, "Tell me, are you hurt anywhere?"

Alan reluctantly let go of his Scott's neck and nodded. Holding out his right hand, "I kinda…messed up…my hand," he managed between sobs. Taking deep breaths, Alan tried to calm himself.

Scott chuckled to himself, "You and me both, Sprout," Scott smiled holding up his own injured hand, "What happened to you?" Scott asked in a soft voice, but inside he was pissed at the guy responsible.

"Um," Alan bit his lip, "You know about the shocking?" Scott nodded tightly, "Well…I kind of had muscle spasm afterwards…and broke a cup during one of them."

Scott's face went blank as he digested what Alan just said. Then he cracked a crooked smile, "You telling me that your scrawny muscles are strong enough to grasp a glass cup so hard, it shatters in your hand!"

Alan let out a watery laugh of his own, "Apparently scrawny doesn't mean weak, Scooter," he replied wryly.

Scott chuckled as he buckled Alan into the seat and closed the door. He was still smiling when he got in the driver's seat and closed the door, "Oh, Alan," he snickered, "You are never going to live that down."

"I think it's a show of strength," Alan huffed, "Can you say you broke a glass with your bare hand?"

Scott snorted as he started up the car, and headed for the road, "No, I guess I can't."

"And how did you hurt your hand?" Alan asked noticing Scott driving one handed.

"I may or may not have punched a wall," Scott muttered, "And can you reverse the direction on the GPS, I really wasn't paying attention as I drove here."

"Let me guess, the wall won," Alan chuckled as he reset the GPS with his left hand.

"I really can't tell you," Scott replied, "It was a hit-and-run situation." Carefully and with a few grimaces, Scott dug his phone out of his pocket with his right hand and held it out to Alan, "Here, call Dad."

Alan took the phone with a smile and speed dialed his father's cell, _"Scott, where are you?"_ Alan sighed hearing his father's voice.

"Um, he's driving right now," Alan said softly, "And can't come to the phone." Scott chuckled at his brother's words; both feeling cheerful despite the events of the past thirty hours.

"_Alan!"_ Jeff's voice said loud enough for Scott to hear, _"How are you? Are you hurt? Where are you?"_

"Dad," Alan cut him off, "Please, one question at a time."

"Tell him we'll be back at the hotel in twenty minutes or so, around eleven o'clock," Scott said, following the GPS's directions, and the speed limits.

"I'm fine," Alan said, after a cough from Scott, he added, "Just busted up my hand a little. And Scott says we'll be at the hotel around eleven."

"_What do you mean you busted up your hand?"_ John's voice came on the phone.

"_That guy hurt you, Sprout?"_ Virgil growled.

"Take it I'm on speaker," Alan quipped, deflecting the questions.

"_You got that right, Al,"_ Gordon replied, _"Now answer the questions."_

Alan looked at Scott, who shrugged, "Can I tell you guys later? In person? I am really sick of talking to you and not seeing you."

"_Sure, Alan,"_ Jeff answered, _"We can wait, right boys?"_

"_Yes," _was the grumbled reply from Alan's brothers.

"_Tell Scott to hurry, but follow the rules of the road this time," _Jeff said, _"We'll see you soon, son."_

"Okay, Dad," Alan replied, "Bye." Closing the phone, Alan looked at Scott, "What'd Dad mean by follow the rules of the road this time?"

Coughing and diligently looking out the window, Scott muttered, "I may have broken a few speed records for these roads."

Alan laughed at his brother's explanation, "Was it the mother hen or the protective brother that made you do it?" Alan asked with a yawn and closed his eyes.

"Again, I take the protective big brother option," Scott said glancing at Alan; smiling noticing that Alan had fallen asleep without hearing the answer.


	25. No Mother Henning yet

_**Hotel**_

Scott pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. Looking at Alan, who was still sleeping, Scott gently took his phone from his brother's hand and silently got out. Walking around to the passenger side of the car, Scott called his father. "Dad," Scott greeted, "We're down in the parking garage."

"_Alright, we'll be right down,"_ Jeff said hurriedly.

"Dad, wait!" Scott responded quickly.

"_What is it, Scott?"_

"Right now Alan is sleeping in the passenger seat," Scott explained, "He does not need everyone surrounding him and asking a million questions…like I know we will all do. What he needs is a shirt and sleep. Then his hand looked at by Virgil."

Jeff sighed, _"Alright, bring him up, we'll wait here. And have a shirt and bed ready for him. Then we'll let each of your brothers see him, before letting him sleep. Sound good?"_

"I know that's the best I'll get," Scott said turning and opening Alan's door, "So I'll take it. Mother Henning will have to wait though; Alan doesn't seem up to it, right now. I'll see you in a few minutes. Oh and someone should call Agent Sufern…" Scott muttered unhappily, "He needs to know we have Alan."

"_I'll do that, while you get Alan up here,"_ Jeff promised, and then both men hung up.

"Okay, Sprout," Scott said, shaking Alan's shoulder, "Time to go upstairs."

"Hmm," Alan mumbled, peeking a blue eye at Scott, "Where are we?"

"The hotel I've been calling home recently," Scott smiled, "Want me to carry you, or can you walk?" Scott asked, unbuckling Alan.

"We'll have to see," he responded stretching a little. Alan groaned a little as his tight muscles stretched and took his weight. Scott steadied him, "Thanks, Scooter," Alan smiled, "Let's go."

Keeping and arm around Alan, Scott supported Alan while he guided him towards the elevator, "Just a heads up, Al," Scott said as he pushed the button for the third floor, "Everyone is in the room. I told Dad no Mother Henning, for now, so hopefully you don't have a million questions. But don't be surprised if some slip."

"Great," Alan mock grumbled, "Take it you all want the gritty details?"

"Yes," Scott nodded seriously, "But not right away. We can wait until you get some rest and Virg looks at your hand."

Alan glanced at his right hand; the bandage was starting to show signs of bleeding through. Chewing on his cheek, Alan said, "We'll all figure out how bad it is together then, I don't even know what it looks like."

Guiding Alan off the elevator and to the room, Scott frowned, "Were you blindfolded the whole time?"

Alan nodded, "Except for a few minutes, yes."

Jeff opened the door hearing his oldest and youngest in the hall, "Alan," He breathed, taking Alan into a strong embrace.

"Hey, Dad," Alan returned the hug on armed, protecting his right hand.

Scott herded them into the room and out of the hall. "Hey, Sprout," Virgil said with his own hug, followed by John, then Gordon.

Alan accepted each hug, not wanting to leave his family's strong and loving holds. Stifling a yawn, he said, "Good to see you guys."

"Same here, Al," Gordon smiled, "Now would you put a shirt on?"

Alan gratefully took the offered shirt and pulled it on; getting help with his right sleeve, "Thanks, Gordo," he muttered.

"Alright, to bed with you," Scott said putting a strong hand on Alan's shoulder and leading him to the bedroom.

Jeff followed them and closed the door behind him, "Alan," Jeff started, "How are you holding up?"

Alan sat on the bed with a sigh, "Honestly, Dad," he finally responded, lying down, "I am much better than I was a few hours ago. And right now I just want to sleep and try to forget for a few more hours."

Jeff pulled the blankets over Alan and sat on top of them, "I can understand that, Alan," Jeff began, "But you also will need to talk about it. First to the FBI or another officer, then we want to know, and talking might help."

Alan turned onto his left side, facing Jeff, "I know," he said quietly, "But can it wait?" He pleaded.

Jeff looked at Scott, both worried, then nodded, "Yes we can wait, for a little longer," Jeff said patting Alan's shoulder, "Get some sleep, son. We'll talk in the morning."

Alan nodded into the pillow and closed his eyes. Scott and Jeff left, leaving the door open a crack, "Someone should stay near him," Scott whispered glancing back at the room.

"Let's give him some time first," Jeff whispered back, "Do you think Virgil can look at his hand in the morning?"

"I have no idea," Scott frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, "Alan doesn't even know what it looks like."

Jeff nodded to himself, finally deciding, "Virgil," he called his middle and most medical son over, "Take the med kit we packed and have a look at Alan's hand, will you?"

"Sure, Dad," Virgil returned, "Any idea what to expect?" This last bit he directed at Scott.

"I only know that he hurt it gripping a cup so hard is shattered," Scott answered, "Muscle spasms after the round of shocking," he added after seeing the confused looks he was getting, "My guess is it's cut up bad…but otherwise, Alan didn't know."

Taking in the information, Virgil went into doctor mode, "Alright, I'll let you know what I find."

Virgil entered the bed room silently, carrying the field med kit from Thunderbird Two; packed as a just in case, but would really rather not use. Closing the door, Virgil walked over to Alan's dozing form.

As Virgil turned on the light on the end table, Alan groaned and scrunched up his face, "Sorry, Al," Virgil cooed, kneeling next to the bed and opening the med kit, "Dad thought it would be best to look at your hand now. Mind if I look?"

Alan cracked his eyes open, squinting at the light, "Could you use a different light? That one is too bright."

Virgil smiled, "Sure, Sprout," he said getting up and turning on the ceiling light; dimming it so it wasn't too bright, but still gave him enough light to work. Walking back to the bed, he turned off the table lamp, "That better?"

"Yeah," Alan grumbled, "But any light hurts right now, no matter what."

Putting on gloves, Virgil frowned, "What do you mean by that, Sprout?"

Rubbing his face with his left hand, Alan pushed the blankets down and brought his right out for Virgil, "What I mean is I couldn't see because of that stupid blindfold, which only came off for bathroom breaks. And that was only twice," Alan muttered; then threw a mock glare ay his brother, "And don't call me Sprout."

"Sorry, but you are going to be hearing that for a while," Virgil chuckled, taking Alan's right hand gently into his, "Now let's see your hand."

Virgil carefully unwrapped the bandage, putting it into a bag when it was all off. Gently peeling the gauze off of Alan's palm, Virgil tried to not reopen what scabs where formed; but they opened anyway because they were dried to the gauze, "Ouch," Virgil said as he put the bloody gauze into the bag.

Alan glanced at his hand, then looked away and closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. "What's the verdict?" He asked after a minute.

Virgil gently, held Alan's hand and turned it to get a better look, "Looks like you slapped a knife rack and lost," he finally said, trying to lighten the mood.

A humorless chuckle came from Alan, "Billy thought it was infected," he offered.

"Billy?" Virgil asked confuse, as he picked up a clean piece of gauze and saline based cleaner, "I'm going to clean our hand, it might sting," he warned.

Alan nodded, then answered Virgil's question, "Billy is what I called whoever had me. He picked it; I suggested Geoffrey, with a 'G', but he thought it was too preppy," Alan hissed as Virgil cleaned a particularly tender cut.

"And how did…Billy…treat you while off camera?" Virgil asked, finishing with the cleaning; putting the dirty gauze in his waste bag.

Alan took a shuddering breath, "I really don't want to talk about it right now, Virgie," Alan mumbled, biting his lower lip.

"That's okay, Al," Virgil reassured softly, "I won't push." Looking at the now clean hand, Virgil found a few more small pieces of glass and tweezed them out, "We are going to have to scan this when we get home to make sure all of the glass it out, but you would feel if any was."

"I don't know that I would," Alan said peeking at Virgil, "It is all kind of one painful and burning feeling."

"Is the pain a sharp or dull pain?" Virgil asked, taking out a sterile needle and thread.

"Both," Alan replied eyeing the needle, "It's mostly dull, but sharp and shooting every time I move my fingers or hand."

Virgil nodded, "Then I would have to agree with this Billy, your hand is infected. But it isn't too bad right now, so some general antibiotics should take care of it. Now I have to stitch up some of these bigger cuts, Sprout," Virgil looked Alan in the eyes, "I'll give you a local anesthetic, so you'll only feel a little pull for each stitch, okay?"

"Okay, Virgie," Alan replied quietly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm going to give you the anesthetic now. Try not to move," Virgil warned, before taking a dose of the drug and injecting it.

Alan grimaced and groaned, but kept his hand as still as possible.

"There, all done with that," Virgil said patting Alan's forearm, "We'll wait a minute for it to take effect. Go to sleep if you can."

Alan nodded and tried to relax.

Virgil waited a few minutes and was glad Alan had fallen back asleep. Taking a strong grip on Alan's hand, he set to work stitching the longer and/or deeper of the cuts.

Twenty minutes later, Virgil was finishing off wrapping Alan's hand in a clean bandage. Taking off his gloves, he put them in the waste bag with the old bandage and needles. Tying the bag closed he put it into another one and sealed that one closed as well. Cleaning up the rest of the med kit, he picked up the box and waste bag, before moving to the door.

Turing off the light and leaving the door cracked, Virgil joined the rest of his family.


	26. Doctor's Orders

Virgil put the med kit on the kitchen counter and washed his hands in the sink. Looking over the half wall at his three other brothers and father, he called softly, "Al's hand should be fine. Needed to give him stitches on a few of the bigger cuts, but not too bad otherwise," he dried his hands and walked over to his family. "His hand did get infected, but a round of general antibiotics should take care of that. We should run blood work back at the island to be sure though."

Jeff nodded, taking in the information, "How long until he recovers?"

"A few weeks or so," Virgil supplied, "So long as he doesn't pull the stitches, then some physical therapy will help him with motor function. Thankfully, none of the cuts caused nerve damage, so he should get full use back; just have some scarring."

"He tell you anything else?" Scott asked.

"Not much," Virgil looked at his oldest brother, noticing his bandaged hand. "And what did you do to your hand?" He asked pointing to said hand.

Glancing at his right hand, Scott shrugged nonchalantly, "Punched a wall."

Gordon couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from his throat and John hid his smirk with a fake cough. Jeff looked at his oldest, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Sufern was getting on my nerves," Scott muttered, "Better the wall than him, right?" He glanced at his father.

Jeff rolled his eyes and smiled in amusement. Virgil, however, looked very serious as he walked up to Scott. Taking Scott's left arm in his, he dragged his brother over to the kitchen and sat him on one of barstools under the half wall, "You just had to punch a wall; let me guess, it was also brick."

"Like I said, it was better than punching Sufern," Scott defended.

Virgil opened the med kit again, and put on another pair of gloves, "And you were going to bring it up when?"

"When it started to hurt. Which it doesn't, see I took care of it," Scott said holding up is bandaged hand and pointed to it.

Taking Scott's right hand, Virgil began undoing the ace bandage. Setting it aside, he took off the crudely placed gauze and put it into a new waste bag. Shaking his head and glaring at his brother, Virgil remarked, "And this doesn't hurt? Not even when I do this?" Virgil punctuated his question by gently poking Scott's middle finger's knuckle.

Breathing in sharply and suppressing a groan, Scott clenched his left hand and shook his head, "No," he ground out, "Doesn't hurt at all."

Nodding his head knowingly, Virgil cleaned the open skin around Scott's first three knuckles. Gently prodding the other knuckles, he got similar reactions to the first. Turning back to the med kit, he silently got out a brace.

"Alright, Field Commander," Virgil said in his best doctor voice, "You are going to wear this brace all the time until we get back to the island. Then," Virgil held up a finger, stopping Scott's protest, "Brains will do an X-Ray series to determine how badly you managed to break your hand. I can determine that three of your knuckles are at least cracked; either the phalanx or metacarpal bones. _Expect_ light duty for a few weeks, dear brother," Virgil finished with a hard look at Scott.

Grumbling, Scott went back to his seat without a retort; doctor orders always trumped field commander orders.

Jeff hid his amusement at his oldest son acting like his youngest. "Alright boys," Jeff spoke up, addressing his four present sons, "It's nearing midnight and we all need our sleep."

No one protested the statement; there was no doubt it was true.

"I'll take the couch," John offered, "You four can figure out the rest of the sleeping arrangements."

"There's only enough bed for three more people," Scott said standing, "And I call dibs on one, considering I have been here the longest." With that he went quietly into the bedroom.

"You should take a bed, Dad," Virgil told his father, "I can take the floor out here."

"You sure, Virgil?" Jeff questioned.

"Yes," Virgil said firmly, going to the closet and getting a pillow for himself and John.

John got two blankets from the closet and added, "We'll make sure no one tries to sneak a midnight snack," he smiled looking at Gordon.

"Whoa," Gordon threw his hands up, "Why you looking at me? I like to sleep through the night thank you."

"Through the night, interrupted with a snack break," Virgil teased.

"Fine," Gordon huffed, "You elders want the couch and floor, okay! I'll sleep in the comfy bed," With that, Gordon turned and stalked, silently, into the bedroom.

"Good night, boys," Jeff whispered, heading for the bedroom himself.

"Night, Dad," John and Virgil responded; both settling into their makeshift beds and turning out the light.

As Jeff walked into the bedroom, he saw Gordon curled up under the covers next to Alan. Scott was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, and waved his father over, "He hasn't been handling this well," Scott whispered, gesturing at Gordon.

Jeff nodded, "He couldn't watch the first two live feeds, and ended up seeing the worse two."

Scott sighed, leaning on the door frame; watching his two youngest brothers for a moment, Scott finally said, "I told him to sleep with Alan," Scott glanced at his father, "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," Jeff shook his head, "It may help both of them. But I call dibs on the side closer to Alan," he added with a wry smiled.

Scott mock glared, "Oh? And how do you know I didn't already?"

"Doesn't matter," Jeff said patting Scott's shoulder, "I'm calling seniority."

That decided, the two oldest Tracy's finished getting ready for bed, and lay down under the covers; both finally finding sleep after an hour of making sure Alan was really there.

Meanwhile, Alan was stuck in another dream:

"_You aren't really safe, boy," the cold voice sneered, "You are still in the chest. And I am coming to get you. Your family failed you…you are _mine_ forever now."_

"_NO!" Alan wanted to scream, but the gag was in his mouth again. He was sitting in the dark again, his hands and feet tied together so he couldn't stand or move._

"_Yes Alan," The shadow circled him, teasing him, toying with him, "I will come and take you away. You will stay in a box, until I want entertainment, then you can come out."_

_Alan shook his head, _no,_ he thought, _I am back with my family!

_A cold laughter filled the dark room, "No, they didn't pay enough. You are mine now. Forget about them, and submit," the shadow ordered, wrapping Alan in its cold grip, "Submit to me, boy, submit!"_

"_LEAVE HIM ALONE!" A voice suddenly boomed, bringing light with it, "He will never be yours!"_

_Alan felt the shadow suddenly let go and heard it shriek at the light, "He's mine, you can't have him!"_

"_NO! He is not yours, leave now, and never come back!" With one final cry the shadow left._

_Alan looked up and saw Marina smiling down at him, "Do not believe what it said, Alan, you are safe. You are right now sleeping in a bed at the hotel, surrounded by your family," Marina reached out and undid the bindings and gag that held Alan as she spoke._

"_Why does the shadow keep coming back?" Alan asked, looking around fearfully._

"_Because," Marina said lifting Alan to his feet, "It is your fear. You must not let fear control you. You held on to hope, and you were found by your family. Do not let fear win now; your family will help you fight it, but you must let them."_

"_I can't just forget and throw my fears aside," Alan said in a small voice, "They will always be there."_

"_Yes," Marina said, taking Alan's face in her hands, "But courage is not the absence of fear, Alan, it is the ability to overcome it."_

"_What if I don't have the strength to overcome my fears," Alan asked timidly._

"_You have the strength," Marina insisted, "Do not let doubt weaken you. Promise me you will continue to hold onto hope and will fight to overcome your fears."_

"_I will," Alan said with more conviction that he thought he had._

"_Good," Marina smiled, "Now it is time to wake up, you have slept the night away."_


	27. Rude Awakening

Alan slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight that was peeping in through a crack in the curtains. Looking at a clock on the end table, he noticed it was almost eight thirty.

For the first time in one and a half days, Alan felt well rested. Smiling, Alan looked over at the other bed and saw his father and Scott, both facing his way and snoring softly. Rolling on to his back, Alan jumped in surprise seeing Gordon's back next to him.

Slowly sitting up, Alan got out of bed, as smoothly as he could so as not to disturb Gordon. Stifling a yawn, he rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bathroom; splashing water on his face to wake him up more. Drying off the excess water, Alan left the bathroom, and moved towards the door.

Opening it as quietly as possible, Alan saw John and Virgil sleeping in the small sitting area. _I guess this is the first real sleep anyone has gotten,_ Alan thought to himself. Leaving the door to the bedroom open, Alan tiptoed to the kitchen and began making coffee; the energy source of the Tracy family.

As the coffee brewed, Alan pulled a bar stool into the kitchen and set it so he could look over the half wall. Then he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the sink. Taking a seat, Alan waited for the coffee aroma to fill the hotel room.

Five minutes later, Alan saw the first signs of life from the sitting area, "Five…Four…Three…" Alan counted down; as he reached one, John sat up slowly and sniffed the air as he rubbed his eyes. Smiling smugly to himself, Alan waited for him to enter the kitchen.

John followed his nose, and blindly began pouring the coffee into a mug out of habit. As he turned to the fridge, Alan softly called, "Hi-ya!"

Jumping and spinning around, John clutched his chest and gasped, "Holy…Alan!" He glared, "Give me a heart attack why don't you!"

For the first time in 36 hours, Alan grinned a genuine smile and laughed whole heartedly, "You should…have seen…your face!" Alan gasped between bouts of laughter.

John stalked over to his hysterical brother and caught him in a head lock, "You think that's funny?" He growled, "What about this?" He then proceeded to give Alan a noogie.

Alan gasped for air and attempted to get out of John's hold. Virgil came in, woken fully by the commotion, "What are you doing, John? It isn't even nine o'clock yet!"

John stopped his noogie and released Alan, "He started it," John mock whined pointing at Alan.

Alan took on a look of pure innocence; compliments of Gordon's tutelage, "I know not of what you speak, John."

At this time, Gordon came in and immediately caught on, "You have the look down, Al! Nice work!"

"Thanks Gordo!" Alan beamed at his red headed brother.

"And you just lost it," Gordon admonished, "I keep telling you, deny everything."

Alan shrugged and took a sip of his water. John grumbled to himself and continued to make his coffee, adding cream and sugar, and then going to sit on his bed/couch.

"What exactly did you do, Alan?" Scott asked leaning on the other side of the half wall and looking over his shoulder at John.

"I made coffee," Alan gestured at the pot, "Then said 'hi' to John when he was getting the creamer…He is the one that didn't see me sitting here and jumped out of his skin," Alan shrugged.

"Gordon," Scott said, looking at his second youngest brother, "You are banned from teaching Alan twisted ways to wake people up."

"Why are you blaming me?" Gordon tried to look innocent, "He came up with that all on his own."

Alan laughed and went to sit next John; leaning into his older brother until John finally put his arm around Alan's shoulders.

Virgil poured two cups of coffee, handing one with cream to Scott, who gratefully took it. "Where's Dad?" Virgil asked sitting on Alan's vacated barstool.

"Sleeping," Scott replied, sitting down himself, opposite Virgil.

Gordon, with his own coffee, sat down next to Scott, but leaned his back against the half wall and faced the sitting area.

John had his head leaned back and was holding his coffee in one hand, while the other gently rubbed Alan's shoulder.

"How's the hand?" Virgil asked after a comfortable silence surrounded the five brothers.

Looking at his hand, Scott rotated it, and shrugged, "Sore, but nothing I can't deal with."

Virgil nodded, "Still," he said turning to the still open med kit, "Take some Advil," he pulled out a single dose of the tablets, "It's for the swelling, not the pain," Virgil explained before Scott could protest.

"Fine," Scott muttered, taking the two pills with a swig of coffee, "Happy?"

"Yes," Virgil smiled, digging in the med kit again. Taking out a stronger pain killer, he stood up and walked towards Alan and John.

Squatting in front of his youngest brother, "Hey, Sprout," Virgil said softly, putting a hand on Alan's knee, "How's the hand?"

Alan shrugged, "Better than before."

Virgil nodded, "Come on, let's take a look," he said offering his hand to Alan.

"Do we have to?" Alan grumbled, taking the offered hand and allowing Virgil to pull him to his feet.

"I just want to check the stitches and give you a pain killer," Virgil soothed, "And then I'll leave it alone until we get home, promise."

Jeff came out of the bedroom stretching, as Virgil shooed Gordon and Scott away from the kitchen. Sitting Alan in Scott's previous seat, Virgil went around the half wall into the kitchen. Alan took the medication with the last of his water.

"Morning, boys," Jeff said to everyone, entering the kitchen to get himself a cup of stiff black coffee.

"Morning, Dad" was the response from five mouths.

"How are you this morning, Alan?"

"Been up twenty minutes," Alan replied, "And I have made coffee, almost given John a heart attack, and am being subjected to another check-up."

"Sounds like the start to a busy day," Jeff smiled, sitting next Alan.

"I hope not," Alan yawned, "It better slow down soon, I haven't been this active for a while."

Jeff nodded as he watched Virgil unwrap the gauze around Alan's palm. "Ouch," he remarked, seeing the red and scabbing cuts, some crossed with black stitches.

"Like I told Virgil," Alan began, "It is better than before." As he thought of what 'before' meant, Alan's eyes clouded over and he frowned.

"Well," Virgil said a little too cheerfully, seeing the look in Alan's eyes, "It does look better. Didn't bleed too much last night and the stitches held."

Jeff put an arm around Alan's shoulders and drew him into a half hug as Virgil rewrapped the hand. "That's good to hear, Virgil," Jeff matched his middle son's tone.

Alan closed his eyes and shook his head, banishing the memories, "Yeah, like I said. Can we eat now?"

"Sure, Alan," Jeff accepted the subject change, "What do you want?"

"Considering you can't cook," Alan said wryly, and looked over his shoulder, "Johnny, can you make pancakes?"

"Only because I have forgiven you," John said raising his head; taking a gulp of coffee he stood up and made his way over to the kitchen, "But I need a sous chef."

"Done!" Alan smiled, hopping off the barstool.

"Alan," Jeff called as he stood up too, "You should know, the lead agent on your case wants to ask you questions. He will be coming sometime in the early afternoon."

Alan paused in taking a griddle out of the cabinet, "Okay," he said slowly, "You're going to be there, right?" He added nervously.

"If you want me to be, yes," Jeff replied.

"Yes, I do," Alan said softly, turning back to helping John.

"Okay," Jeff nodded, "Then I will be." Jeff then went to sit in one of the arms chairs with Scott and Gordon; listening to John and Alan banter over their cooking. Virgil joined them after packing up and closing the med kit.


	28. Cleansing

Breakfast had been delicious; John's pancakes being a much appreciated delicacy. Alan had been quiet and withdrawn, however, only participating in conversation when something was directed at him. His brothers noticed his mood with some worry, but didn't pry; instead they tried lightening the mood with their usual banter and jests. Jeff was also worried about Alan's quietness, but attributed it to the upcoming interview with Agent Sufern.

After breakfast, Alan finally spoke up of his own accord, "Mind if I take a shower?"

Jeff smiled at his youngest from across the table, "Of course, Alan. Scott, Virgil, and Gordon have to do dishes anyway; seeing as you and John cooked."

"And you stink," Gordon piped up with a crooked grin.

"Look who's talking, Fish," John smirked, "When was the last time you showered anyway."

"My guess is," Scott said leaning closer to Gordon and sniffing, "Two…Three days."

Gordon glowered at his brothers, and then sniffed his under arm, "I am _not_ that bad!"

"I agree," Alan defended his next older brother, "it's only been one and a half tops."

"Thanks for nothing," Gordon grumbled. Alan just smiled and gently slapped Gordon's back as he walked past.

Virgil got up too, and followed Alan into the bedroom, "We packed you some clothes, Sprout," he explained, walking over to one of the suitcases and taking out some garments.

"Thanks, Virgie," Alan replied, taking the offered bundle, "It will feel good to be clean again."

"I hear you," Virgil said patting Alan's shoulder, "I also want you to cover your hand to keep the bandage dry," having said that, Virgil left to get a plastic bag from the kitchen.

Alan nodded and waited for Virgil to return. A minute later, Virgil came back in, helping Alan cover his hand, then taping it shut, "Okay, Sprout, you're good to go. Try not to use your right hand, though."

"It would be kind of difficult to anyways," Alan retorted, going into the bathroom and closing the door.

Virgil went back into the main part of the hotel room, and helped with the dishes.

In the shower, letting the hot water beat down on him, Alan was sitting on the little bench; his knees drawn up to his chest. Resting his head on his knees, Alan let out some of his built up emotions, allowing the water to wash away the silent tears he let fall.

As his tears went down the drain and the water relaxed the tension out of his muscles, Alan slowly stood up. Washing his hair and body of the past 40 hours.

Turning off the water and stepping out of the shower, Alan dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Alan looked in the mirror and jumped in fright; standing to his right was a tall, dark, featureless figure. Spinning around, Alan clutched the sink, but he didn't see anything. G_et a hold of yourself! No one is here…just you and your imagination,_ he tried to calm himself.

Taking a deep breath, Alan finished getting dressed, and walked back out to his family.

"You leave any hot water for the rest of us?" Scott teased.

"Nope," Alan put on a fake smile, "Thought you could use a little more waking up. What better way than a cold shower?"

"Well," Gordon said standing up and moving for the bedroom, "Since you all have expressed how much I smell; I'm taking whatever hot water is left! The rest of you can figure out your shower order," then he marched into the bedroom and dramatically closed the door.

"Agent Sufern called while you were in the shower," Jeff said as Alan sat down between Scott and John on the couch, "He'll be here in a couple of hours."

"This the guy that doesn't back down under your glare, Scooter?" Alan asked in small voice.

"He _was_ that guy," Scott replied, putting a strong arm around Alan, "But I got him to crack yesterday."

"And then you punched a wall," Virgil added with a sneer.

"Yeah, well," Scott shrugged, "I still had him shaking in his boots."

"And he has respectfully requested that you not be present," Jeff sighed, "Course, I said it was Alan's choice."

The four older Tracy's all looked at Alan, who shrugged, "It would be easier to just tell all of you at the same time."

"Then I'll make sure, Sufern, doesn't overdo it," Scott declared, giving Alan a supportive squeeze.

"Until then," John said, picking up the remote, "Let's watch a movie and forget the world."

"Sounds like a plan," Virgil agreed, "What are we going to watch?"

"Something funny," Alan requested, getting more comfortable on the couch.

"I'm with, Sprout," Scott stated, mimicking Alan's motions, so the two were slouched; Alan was leaning into Scott, under his arm, using Scott's strong chest as a pillow and draping his bandaged hand over Scott's stomach.

"How about, the 2008 version of Get Smart?" John said, flicking through the movie list, "Has Steve Carell, Anne Hathaway, and 'The Rock'."

With agreement from everyone, John selected the movie. Gordon came out of the bedroom ten minutes into the movie and took Virgil's seat, as Virgil went to take his shower.

When Virgil came back, John left to take his shower, then Jeff. Alan had fallen asleep so, not wanting to disturb his exhausted brother, Scott opted out of taking a shower; falling asleep himself halfway through the movie.

Jeff got a call from Sufern, as the end credits were starting, _"I'll be there in ten minutes,"_ the agent informed.

"Alright," Jeff replied, "Alan is sleeping right now, but if I wake him up now, he should be coherent enough for you."

Sufern chuckled, _"Likes his sleep, does he?"_

"Very much," Jeff responded, "But he is also still exhausted from his experience," he added coolly.

That sobered up Agent Sufern, who then ended the call in a professional manner.

"You see," Scott grumbled, "He's lucky I hit the wall instead."

"Just make sure if you have the urge to hit him again," Jeff sighed, "You leave the room and don't destroy anything."

"I don't think I'll be able to," Scott muttered, "He deserves whatever he gets."

Hearing, Scott talking, considering his ear was right on Scott's chest, Alan blinked his eyes open and yawned, "What time is it?"

"A little before one," Jeff said, sitting next to his youngest, "Agent Sufern just called, he will be here in a few minutes."

"Yay," Alan replied dryly.

"See?" Scott pointed at Alan, "He hasn't even met the guy, and already Alan doesn't like him! You should have gotten someone else."

"It wouldn't have happened, Scott," Jeff shook his head; "Sufern is the lead agent, and so he decides who does what. Now behave yourself or I _will_ send you out of the room!"


	29. Difficult Questions

In preparation for Agent Sufern, the Tracy's had pulled the dining table to the middle of the room; between the kitchen and the sitting area. Virgil had brewed another pot of coffee, and everyone, sans Alan, had a cup. Alan had opted for water, not needing to be jittery from caffeine.

Scott answered the door, showing his dislike of Sufern right from the get-go; Sufern did his best not to balk from Scott's imposing figure.

Virgil cast a discreet glare at his oldest brother, before greeting Sufern, "Agent Sufern, please have a seat."

"Thank you…" Sufern trailed off, not knowing anyone's name.

"I'm Virgil," Virgil supplied, "And this is John and Gordon," he pointed to his brothers, who waved at their introduction, "And you already met Scott."

"Ah, yes," Sufern cast a quick glance at Scott, "And Mr. Tracy is where?"

"In the bedroom with Alan," John said sitting at the table, "Alan needed a minute to prepare himself."

Sufern took a seat next to John, and nodded. Virgil sat on Sufern's right. Gordon sat on the other side of Virgil, and Scott on the other side of John; Gordon and Scott being at the ends of the table.

Jeff opened the bedroom door and led Alan towards the table. Sufern stood up as Jeff neared him, "Agent Sufern," Jeff said shaking hands.

"Mr. Tracy," Sufern returned the greeting, "Alan," he added holding his hand out to the blonde.

Alan looked at the hand, before tentatively shaking it. Scott and John watched the exchange gauging Alan's mood. Virgil and Gordon sat ready to intervene on their youngest brother's behalf should Scott or John give any indication something was wrong.

Jeff kept a supportive hand on Alan's back as they all sat.

Sufern cleared his throat, "So, Alan," he started readying a pen and pad of paper, "Tell me about Tuesday."

Alan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Where should I start?"

"Let's start with your morning," Sufern said formally.

"Uh," Alan frowned in thought, looking at the table top, "I woke up early with Fermat to get breakfast," Sufern nodded as we wrote what Alan said. "Then went to class, I guess," Alan shrugged unsure what to say.

"What were your classes like?" Sufern led Alan.

Jeff, Scott, John, Virgil knew that Sufern was just trying to break the ice, making Alan feel more comfortable talking, but Gordon and Alan were lost as to why Sufern was asking about Alan's classes.

Alan looked at Scott for support, and Scott nodded for him to continue, "Um, like any other class. I went to English then Science then Math…then Fermat, me, Jake, and Rob went to get lunch."

"What did you eat?"

"I…I don't know, we ate it really fast," Alan mumbled.

"Okay," Sufern looked at Alan, who was still studying the table, tracing the grains in the wood, "Why did you eat so fast you don't remember what you ate?"

John cast a sideways glare at Sufern; he really didn't like the man's tone.

"We wanted to get to the bus," Alan looked up quickly, then back down.

"And where was this bus taking you that wanted to be there so quickly?"

Alan lifted his head and swallowed nervously, "I think that one is obvious," he said frowning at the memories that were starting to creep into his mind.

"I just want your version of the day," Sufern replied indifferently.

Alan noticed the glares Sufern was getting openly from Scott and discreetly from John, taking some comfort in his brothers' closeness and protectiveness, he answered, "We were going to the park for art."

"And what did you do for your art?"

"A tree –"

"You have the picture," Scott growled, "Why don't you look."

"Scott," Jeff warned; Scott just sat back and continued to glare.

"Yes, I have seen it," Sufern said coolly, "But I would still like Alan to tell me."

"I drew a tree and clouds," Alan cast a glance at Scott, "Not much to say if you've seen it."

"Alright," Sufern nodded, "Tell me about what happened at the park?"

Alan chewed his lip, "There really isn't much to say," he said, pausing to collect his thoughts, "I was sitting on the wall and my picture was pretty much done…" Alan took a shuddering breath.

"Take your time, son," Jeff murmured in his ear.

Alan found a very interesting swirl in the wood and began tracing it; bouncing his leg nervously, he continued, "Someone came up behind me and…" another shaky breath, "And they wrapped an arm round my neck. Their other hand held a cloth to my face that smelled weird."

"What did it smell like?" Sufern interrupted.

"I don't know," Alan mumbled, "Like alcohol or something."

"Alright, what happened next?"

"Well I tried to get away," Alan said like it was obvious, "But I got really tired…then nothing."

"You passed out?"

"I guess," Alan looked at John nervously, "I don't know."

"It's alright, Al," Virgil said, putting a comforting hand on Alan's, "My guess is he used an old anesthetic, called ethanol, it would have made you tired and fall asleep."

Alan nodded and bit his lip; Virgil gave him a small smile then sat back again. Sufern pursed his lips, unhappy with the interruption, "What happened next?"

Alan licked his lips and reached for his cup of water. Picking it up with a slightly shaky hand, Alan took a few slips then put it back down. Twirling his cup with his left hand, Alan finally replied in a small voice, "I woke up."

"Where were you?" The agent pushed.

"I don't know," Alan stopped the cup, still speaking in a low, scared voice, "I couldn't _see_."

"What do you know? What did you hear, feel, smell? Anything you remember will help Alan," Sufern insisted.

"I was tied up on the floor," Alan ground out; getting stubborn in response to Sufern's pushing. _Doesn't he know I want to forget! I don't want to think about Billy or his stupid rope!_ Alan thought angrily to himself.

"How long were you on the floor?"

"How should I know?" Alan retorted, "I woke up on the stupid floor then the guy that put me there came in."

"What can you tell me about him?" Sufern asked his voice formal and unsympathetic.

"He can talk," Alan said sardonically, starting to shield himself form the memories.

Sufern looked at Alan with a look you give a misbehaving child, and voice to match it, "What did it sound like? Was it deep? High? Rough? What?"

Not liking how Sufern was throwing so many questions at his only baby brother, while Alan was obviously having a hard time with answering any questions, "He had a deeper voice, but not bass," Gordon cut in.

Virgil, agreeing with Gordon's reasoning, added, "Tenor would be a good description."

"If your sons cannot keep quiet, Mr. Tracy, I am going to have to ask that you make them leave," Sufern said in a condescending tone.


	30. Lessons Quickly Learned

**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! I was worried how this story would be received. I liked some of the ideas a few of you put in your reviews (i won't say which though, cause i'm mean) and perhaps i'll use some in up coming chapters...**

**I will hopefully beable to finish up this story this weekend, got a relaxing onw at home while i take care of the family dog...he may be a good inspiration for me. So thanks again and hope you like the chapters to come as much as the rest of the story!**

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><p>As soon as the words left his mouth, Sufern found himself surrounded by some very imposing and hostile Tracy's; all openly glaring at him. "I couldn't if I wanted to, <em>Agent Sufern<em>," Jeff responded in a cold and controlled voice, "They are all adults and Alan asked that they be here. Furthermore," Jeff set a hard look on Sufern, "You had better start giving _all_ of my sons more respect, because all _five_ of them have done more, and survived more, in their short lives than you ever will in your whole life." Jeff then leaned his elbows on the table and said in a lower and even colder voice, "They also are only protecting their own from your uncaring and callous attitude towards their brother. Do I make myself clear?"

Sufern looked at the cold and angry eyes of the five older Tracy's, seeing that he was in a very precarious position; he cleared his throat, saying "I apologize to you and your sons, Mr. Tracy," the federal agent looked at each angry face, "I will try not to act so insensitive for the remainder of this questioning."

"See that you do," Jeff said sitting back.

Alan looked shocked by his family's sudden mood change, and was really glad he wasn't Sufern right now, _don't piss off a Tracy if you want to avoid a hospital visit, _he thought wryly, _and don't piss off the whole Tracy _family_ if you want to live. Sufern, you are in some serious trouble right now…_

In sync, John and Virgil sat back in their chairs and folded their arms across their chests. Scott picked up his chair and moved to right next to Alan; sitting down, he put an arm around Alan and set a cold gaze on Sufern. Gordon leaned on the table; his forearms folded together, and set his own unwavering gaze on the FBI agent.

A tense silence fell over the equally tense group. Alan, surprisingly, was the one to break it, "Um, where were we?"

Sufern took Alan's words as permission to continue the questioning and answered, "I was wondering about what the man that took you was like," he said in a lighter voice than his previous one.

"Right," Alan instantly regretted starting up again, "Um…well, after he made himself known…he picked me up off the floor and sat me in a chair…" Alan bit the inside of his cheek again.

"Did he say anything?"

"Um yeah," Alan nodded slowly, thinking back to his first few hours with Billy, _God, that seems forever ago!_ "He said he wouldn't hurt me and I was going to make him money."

Sufern nodded, writing as Alan spoke, "Anything else?"

"You really want _all_ our conversations?" Alan asked skeptical and dreading reliving all of it.

Sufern stopped his writing, and looked Alan in the eye, "Anything you tell me will help in finding him."

"I don't think you will," Alan muttered.

"What do you mean by that, Sprout?" Scott asked.

"Billy –"

"Billy?" John interrupted.

"Sorry, Al, I didn't tell them anything last night," Virgil gave a sheepish smile.

"S'okay, Virgie," Alan gave a small return smile, "Um, he said I would be with him a while, so said I should call him something. He didn't like 'Let-me-go' or Geoffrey, with a 'G', though, so told me to call him Billy. And no," Alan said seeing a question on Sufern's mind, "I don't think it's his real name. I mean he told me it wasn't, and he could have been lying…but I don't think he would tell me his name just to protect himself."

Sufern wrote down what Alan said, "And as your brother asked, why don't you think we will find him?"

"I don't know, just a feeling, I guess," Alan shrugged, "He seemed prepared for a lot of things…and he told me he's done it 25 other times without getting caught," Alan mumbled the last part, but Scott heard him and tensed at the words.

"What was that last part, Alan?" Sufern looked quizzically at Alan.

"Go ahead, Sprout," Scott encouraged, but his voice held an edge.

"Billy…he…uh, he said that he's done…what he did to me, to 25 other kids," Alan leaned in to Scott for comfort.

Everyone around the table was silent, the revelation daunting to them. Sufern coughed and shook himself, "Alright, we'll come back to that," he decided, "What else did –Billy?—say to you?"

Alan swallowed hard, "Well, he explained why he took me," he tried to suppress a shudder, but Scott felt it and held Alan closer and tighter.

"Can you tell me why?"

Alan's lower lip trembled, but he managed to answer, "'Cause I have blonde hair, blue eyes and I'm fourteen. And that he was selling me to people that wanted to buy kids like that." He wiped at his eyes, feeling tears pricking them.

"And was he planning on calling your father so he could pay a ransom instead?"

"No," Alan lost the battle with is tears, "He only did that…when I told…him my name…cause I didn't…want to be called…boy," Alan explained between sobs.

"It's alright, Al," Scott whispered and soothed, "I got you."

"You're doing good, Alan," Sufern said, actually meaning his words, "Can you tell me about when he called your family?"

Alan shook his head, "I couldn't see…or t-talk…I…I only heard…Dad and Virgil."

"He was tied to a chair," Jeff took over, "A blindfold over his eyes and a ball gag in his mouth."

"And you and Virgil were the only ones there for the call?"

"Yes," Jeff nodded, "Scott had already left to come here, and John was picking Gordon up early from a vacation."

"You told me earlier that it was an hour later the bid began, right?"

"Yes, I'm having a colleague compile a tape of the…auction," Jeff ground out the word, "For you. That should arrive in a couple of days."

"That would be helpful," Sufern acknowledged. Looking back at Alan he asked, "What did you do for that hour, Alan?"

"Ate a turkey sandwich," Alan said in control of his tears for the moment, "Well…I was stilled tied to the chair, so he fed me…and it's a good thing he told me he had a granola bar too, 'cause I still couldn't see."

"Why was that good?"

"I made him check for walnuts," Alan took a deep breath, "Which it had."

"He's allergic," Virgil supplied. Sufern nodded in thanks for the explanation.

"And then?"

"Then he dragged me somewhere in the room, in front of the camera I guess," Alan frowned in thought, "And he put the gag back in."

"So the first bid was like the phone call?" Sufern looked at Jeff. Jeff only nodded tightly. "You said the tapings were three hour segments, then…two hour repeats," Sufern checked his notes, "What did you do after the three hours, Alan?"

"He walked me around with my hands cuffed behind me," Alan closed his eyes and clutched Scott like a life line, "Then he let me use the bathroom; he took the blindfold and a cuff off for that."

"Did you get a look at him?" Sufern asked what was on everyone's mind.

"No," Alan shook his head, "He closed the door too quickly. Then when he wanted me to come out, he told me to kneel facing the wall, close my eyes and put my hands on my head," new tears began to fall, "And I did…without a fight," he sobbed, looking ashamed.

"Whoa, hey now, Sprout," John said leaning forward in his chair, you have no reason to feel guilty about that. You didn't know where you were or if you could get away. _Not_ trying to escape was safer than trying and getting hurt, okay?"

Seeing his brothers nod in agreement to John's words, Alan gave a small nod, "Okay, Johnny," he replied, his voice small and like a scared child's; fresh tears falling freely.


	31. Ten Minutes

After a stern look from Gordon, Sufern wisely let Alan get control of himself.

Alan had his face buried in Scott's shoulder as Scott gently rubbed his back. For the first time, Scott was not expressing his dislike of Sufern; all of his attention was on Alan. After a few minutes, Alan began to calm himself, taking deep breaths. Virgil had gotten up to get tissues, which he handed to Alan.

Alan blew his nose, while Jeff wiped the tears from his face. Alan took a couple shaky breaths then nodded once to Sufern, a determined look on his face.

Sufern took that as his cue to continue, "What did you do after he…restrained you again?"

"He said I could sleep," Alan bit his lip, "I think it was an hour or so before the bid."

"And you slept for how long?"

"He said five hours…but I don't…I don't really know how long," Alan answered with a frown.

"That's alright Alan," Jeff soothed. Looking at Sufern, he continued, "He slept through the three hours of live feed."

Sufern nodded, "I don't think we need to go into detail about the bids. The tape you are having made should be sufficient," looking at Alan, Sufern pursed his lips, "I'm more interested in what happened while the camera was off."

Alan swallowed and nodded in worried understanding. "You think we could take a break," Scott said in more of a command than a request.

"That sounds like a good idea," Jeff quickly jumped onto Scott's thinking.

"Alan?" Sufern looked to the nervous blonde.

"I…I just need a few…minutes," Alan mumbled.

"Okay, ten minutes enough?" Sufern didn't look like he liked the idea, but acquiesced knowing he was outnumbered five to one…six to one if Alan really decided to get stubborn.

"Thirty," Scott demanded.

"No," Alan said in soft whisper.

"Fifteen," Sufern bargained.

"Thirty," Scott didn't budge.

"No," Alan said a little louder.

Scott and Sufern were now in a glaring contest. John and Virgil figuring Scott could handle the FBI on his own. Jeff and Gordon ready to stop Scott from doing something stupid.

"Thirty, this is not a negotiation," Scott enforced.

"NO!" Alan yelled, standing up from the force of his emotions.

The room fell silent, everyone shocked by the outburst. Alan wiped furiously at a few tears; these ones not of fear or sadness but just an overflow of mixed emotions built up.

Jeff stood slowly, putting a gentle hand on Alan's shoulder, "What is it Alan? What's wrong?"

Alan flicked a glance at his father before shifting his gaze between Scott and Sufern. "Did any of you think," Alan ground out, "That maybe _I_ should have a say?"

"Alan—" Scott began.

"No, Scott," Alan cut him off, "I only need a few minutes, not thirty," that said, Alan stalked out to the small balcony.

"Thirty minutes will give you a chance to collect yourself, Sprout," John said softly, having followed his baby brother.

"I only need ten, Johnny," Alan's voice cracked, "I only _want_ ten."

"Why ten, Sprout?" John asked in the same soft, soothing voice as he took Alan into a strong embrace.

"I want this done," Alan whispered into his brother's shoulder; John rubbing his back soothingly, "Thirty minutes will only be worse. I need a breath…but not a long one. Please, Johnny," Alan begged, beginning to shake, "I want this behind me."

"Okay, Sprout," John held Alan close, "Shhhh, take a deep breath, that's it, shhhh, calm down. Take another deep breath," John soon calmed Alan down. Leaving Alan on a bench outside, John went back into the room. "Ten minutes," John said firmly, "Then we pick it up again."

"Why don't we get some coffee then," Jeff suggested, "All take a moment, then reconvene."

The assembled nodded, everyone moving for the kitchen or sitting area. John went back out to the balcony. "Let's sit out here while they get their caffeine," John said, sitting next to Alan on a bench.

Alan nodded and curled up next to John, resting his head on his older brother's shoulder. The sun was warm on their skin, and Alan let it sooth and relax him; thinking of the island and his favorite cove. John hummed a song, one that Alan couldn't name, but thought he had heard Virgil play it on the piano before.

After a while, Alan sat up and took a deep breath through is nose, "Okay, John," was all he said.

John nodded, standing up and offering his hand, "Okay, Alan."

Alan took the offered hand and let John pull him to his feet before leading him into the hotel room again. Virgil and Gordon were now on either side of Sufern at the table; wisely separating Scott and the agent. Scott sat between his father and Virgil, while Alan took a seat between John and his father.

"So," Sufern began taking a look at his notes, "Let's assume that 'Billy' let you sleep for five hours. That would have given you an hour of being awake before the third bid. What did you do in that time?"

"Um…he woke me up and uncuffed me from the bed," Alan thought back, "I wasn't really awake, but I felt him cuff my hands behind me again."

"Did you talk at all?"

"Maybe," Alan chewed the inside of his cheek, "But it's fuzzy. I think I asked about the time…but he didn't give me a straight answer."

"Alright, what happened next?"

"He sat me in a chair again," Alan replied, "And gave me choices for food. Orange or apple juice and butter or jam on toast."

"What did you have?"

"Orange juice and jam," Alan answered.

"After you ate?"

"He said that we were going to call Dad," Alan began, "Billy said it was a reward for good behavior."

"He called with the vid-phone," Jeff supplied.

"Did he take the blindfold off?"

Alan shook his head, "He gave me a choice of ten minutes without a gag or twenty minutes with one; I wanted to talk, so chose ten minutes."

"What did you talk about?" Sufern directed at the whole table.

"Uh…I told them not to leave the web page," Alan bit his lip.

"We wouldn't be able to get back into the…bid," Virgil barely managed the word, "If we left it," he explained.

"Then we just tried not to focus on the situation," Gordon continued.

"Something about a prank we older brothers are worried about," John smiled in memory.

"What prank?" Scott asked confused.

"That's the thing," Virgil smiled too; "We don't know what it is or who the target is. Just that it's one of us," he gestured to himself, John, and Scott.

"Great," Scott cast a calculating look at Gordon; Gordon only gave a devilish smile in return.

"Let's get back on topic," Sufern broke the brief happiness, "After the call, what did you do, Alan?"

"He tied me to the bed again," Alan said softly, not liking the memory coming to mind.

"In what way?"

"You'll see on the tape," Jeff inserted, not wanting Alan to have to relive one of the harder bids.

"That maybe, Mr. Tracy," Sufern returned, "But I want to know about any conversations or feelings Alan had. And if Billy ever went further than kidnapping."

"He did," John said dryly, "He _auctioned_ Alan off."

Sufern nodded, but didn't say anything more on the matter, "How did he restrain you Alan?"

"He…" Alan took a bracing breath, "He tied my ankles so I could bend on knee or have both straight. And…" another deep breath, "My arms to the bed frame."

"Anything else?" Sufern asked, leading Alan.

"He wanted to put the gag back in," Alan drew out the answer, frowning because he knew what Sufern wanted, "I didn't want it, so didn't open my mouth…he forced it open anyway and put the gag in." John held Alan closer as the younger Tracy shivered, "He said the gag wasn't the worst thing."

"What did he mean by that?"

"I heard him walk away, get something, and walk back," Alan closed his eyes against the memory; but it just became more vivid, "He sat down next to me, but I couldn't move away…" a few tears escaped from behind his eyelids, "Then he said, 'this is worse'. I tried to get away again when I felt cold metal on my chest," Alan began to breath hard, lost in the nightmarish memory.

"Easy, Sprout," John soothed, bringing Alan into a strong and safe embrace, "Take a minute, breath in…now breath out…that's it…again, in…and out," John pulled Alan out of the memory.

Opening his eyes, Alan bit his lip before continuing, "He cut off my shirt," he finished simply, "And I was pissed. Does that answer your question?" Alan's voice was harder for the last part.

Scott had a pleased look on his face, _why to go, Alan. Don't let this annoying little man get to you._


	32. Shocking News

Sufern groaned inwardly, _great now Alan's getting resistive._ "Yes," was Sufern's reply, "After the three hour live feed of that; what happened?"

"I tried to kick him when he untied my ankle," Alan said dryly, "He then pinned me warned me that he would either hurt me or make me uncomfortable and look more _appealing_," Alan ground the word out, "To the buyers."

"How would he have done that?" Sufern pushed.

Alan set a hard look on Sufern, and responded in a flat voice, "That he would strip me to my boxers and dump ice water on me." He spoke with more confidence than he had the rest of the interview, but he still shuddered at the thought of what Billy had implied.

Scott and Virgil's faces twisted in anger, both wanting to hunt down Billy for even suggesting such a thing. Gordon's face was emotionless; he didn't want to think how things could have gone had that happened, thinking to himself, _this guy really does know how to control his victims_. John was trying hard not to crush Alan as he held him with all his might, never wanting to let him go again. Jeff was hiding his emotions, but inside he was as angry as Scott and Virgil towards this 'Billy', as scared as Gordon of what could have been, and as desperate as John to keep Alan safe.

Sufern had an indifferent façade, not wanting to show that he was really disgusted with what Alan was telling him. "After the threat, how did you react and what did you do?"

"I didn't fight," Alan's voice lost its edge, "And he threw me back in the chair."

"Were you tied?"

"Yeah, he had cuffed my hands," Alan said in a low and emotionless voice, "Then he came back in the room and tied me to the chair around my chest and arms…and undid the cuffs. He then put something on my wrists to make them hurt less or something."

"Was he angry still?"

"No, he had apologized for 'losing his temper'," Alan snorted, "And went back to his calm attitude."

"And what he put on your wrists, did it help?"

"Yeah, I guess," Alan shrugged, "I didn't really think about them."

"Did you talk at all while he tended to your wrists?" Sufern asked in rapid fire; not giving Alan a chance to stop and think.

Alan nodded sadly, "I asked him how many times he's done it?"

The table went quiet again; wanting and, at the same time, _not_ wanting to know the answer. Sufern broke the silence, "What did he tell you?"

"25 times before," Alan shuddered, "25 kids sold without him getting caught. 25 kids that never went home, because all of them didn't have rich families that could compete with the bidding," Alan paraphrased, "He said I was the only one that he called the family, because I was the only kid that had a family that could keep up."

"What did you do after that?"

"He moved me back to the camera, I think," Alan answered, his voice still soft, knowing what he was about to say would also shock the room, "I asked him why he was doing it to me?"

"What was his response?" Sufern asked intrigued.

"That it was all he knew," Alan frowned and looked down at his lap, "He had been taken when he younger than me," the room stilled, "And he was sold, like he was selling me. He was made some guy's pet 'til he turned 16. Then he got sold again. He was with that guy for three years…" Alan took a breath, "He said he was molested…what does that mean?"

John flinched, Scott frowned, Virgil looked at the ceiling, Gordon closed his eyes, Sufern studiously checked his notes, Jeff inwardly groaned; none of them wanted to explain this topic to a young boy that almost had that fate.

Finally, Jeff cleared his throat and looked at Alan, who raised his eyes to meet his father's, "It means he was used for sex and the person was older than him. Alan, he was raped and had no control," Jeff said softly, and his heart broke seeing Alan instantly realize that he could have been in the same position.

"Why?" Alan asked innocently with new tears, "Why do people do that to _kids_?"

"Some people are just that way," Jeff frowned, "And no one but themselves really know why. It could be past experience or just that they are only satisfied with younger people."

Alan nodded to himself, _no wonder Billy was so angry._ After shaking his head to clear it, Alan looked at Sufern and continued his tale, "He said that after those three years, another man bought him. This is the guy that taught Billy how to do what he called 'making a living'."

"Did he give any names or details?" Alan shook his head, "Did 'Billy' tell you anything else for explanation?"

"No," Alan shook his head again, "Only that the last man let him go after a while…I don't know how long."

Sufern nodded, checking his notes, "What was going on while you were talking?"

"He was tying me to the chair again," Alan replied quietly, looking at his lap again, "And putting things on me."

"Do you know what they were?"

"Only once the bid began," Alan bit his lip fighting tears again; John put both his arms around Alan, protecting him in the circle of his arms.

"We assumed they were electrodes," Gordon spoke up quietly, "Well…Scott figured it out."

"Here I do want to know what happened during the bid, Alan," Sufern stated.

Alan looked everywhere but at the people around the table, "After the second round of shocking, Billy said that my family caught on quick…slowing their bids…but the second round was because of another buyer," he took a shuddering breath, "Then he told me that they were electrodes."

"How many electrodes did 'Billy' put on you?"

"Six," was all Alan said.

"We only counted five," Virgil said frowning.

Alan shuddered and looked at Virgil, "There was one on my back."

"What did the shocks feel like?" Sufern continued his questioning.

"Some were just zaps and tingling," Alan unconsciously rubbed at his chest where two of the electrodes had been, "Others…others took my breath away and made my muscles spaz and clench…even after they were off of me," the last part was muttered dryly.

Gordon shot Scott a we-are-_so_-talking-later, Scott nodded his understanding.

"What do you mean after they were off?" Sufern looked up inquisitive.

"Uh," Alan coughed, "He gave me a glass of water after the bid…One of the spasms decided that was a good time to hit…and I kind of broke the cup in my hand," Alan then held up his right and bandaged hand.

Sufern raised his eyebrows, "Must have been a strong muscle spasm to break the cup with your bare hand."

"Yeah," Alan said dryly, looking Sufern in the eye evenly, "Hurt like hell too; so did my hand."

Sufern held Alan's look, "Mind if I have a look at your hand."

"Yes," Alan said putting his hand in his lap, "I do mind. Virgil promised he wouldn't look at it again until we got home. Do you want my brother to break his promise?"

"Another brother can help," Sufern pointed out.

"Virgil is the only medic," Alan said with a straight face, _at least the most medical…but Sufern doesn't need to know that._


	33. Parting Advice

**A/N: sorry...my updating was much slower than i anticipated...seems when i have nothing important to do, i don't write as much...but then with school work to do, all i do is write...good news for the story is school starts up again this week, so on with procrastinating! thank you all for your reviews, again, i really appreciate them and they make me laugh quite often...hope you like this chapter!**

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><p>The four older brothers had a hard time holding their poker faces; all extremely proud, and a little worried, that Alan could hold a straight face for the lie.<p>

Jeff, however, coughed into his hand, _I don't whether to be proud Alan just held a perfect poker face or to be worried about him doing it so well while lying to an FBI agent…note to self, no more poker with the boys._

Sufern held Alan's look, "I could insist. I need to know all of your injuries inflicted by the suspect."

"Then you don't need to see this one," Alan returned, "I did it to myself."

"Are you protecting 'Billy'?"

"No," Alan growled, "I just don't want you to pry into my life anymore."

Sufern gave a curt nod, "Fine, what happened after you broke the cup?"

"He cleaned it and bandaged it, along with my wrists and ankles. I ate another sandwich, this time on my own, 'cause I wasn't tied up," Alan' voice was flat again, "Then called Scott."

"Why Scott?" Sufern made the mistake of looking at said brother, who was giving him a cold look.

"Because only one person would be able to talk to me, and I hadn't talked to Scott," Alan said looking at his oldest brother with a small smile; which was returned, "He needed to tell Dad about the blind bid."

"Which I know about," Sufern said deciding to skip going into detail on that, "Then what? You had two hours before the next scheduled bid, which turned into a rerun, at least five hours of off camera time. What happened?" Sufern questioned.

"Let's see," Alan began a little sarcastic, "There was another bathroom break, like the last, but I wasn't cuffed before or after. Then I almost fell asleep in the bathroom…and sorta remember being carried then put on the bed," Alan said thinking back, and losing the sarcasm, "Billy cuffed my ankle, but that was it. I don't know how long I slept, but Billy insisted that I couldn't sleep more."

"What did you do after your nap?" Sufern continued writing notes.

"Took a walk," Alan frowned in thought, "Then he looked at my hand again...he had me tied to the chair again around my chest. Then he put stuff on the marks from the shocking…" Alan involuntarily shivered, still not liking how Billy had rubbed the cream in, "He said he needed me to look as healthy as possible, and the cream would do that."

"What do the marks look like, because those _were_ inflicted by the suspect," Sufern cut into Alan's recounting of events.

Alan only rolled up his right sleeve, "Like this one, but I am _not_ taking my shirt off to show you the others."

Sufern was going to say something, but Scott beat him to it, "And if you even _think_ of asking him to…this conversation will not only be over, but so will your career in the FBI," he didn't even try to hide the threat, and Sufern figured that it wasn't an empty one either.

"Alright," Sufern moved on, "What next?"

"We…and when I say 'we' I really mean Billy," Alan clarified, "Played a board game…Billy said it was _The Game of Life_, but it could have been _Parcheesi_ for all I know. Then I lay on the bed, while Billy packed, at least that's what I figured he was doing…'cause still couldn't see."

"Were your hands tied?"

"No, but my ankle was cuffed to the bed again," Alan replied easily.

"And you never took the blindfold off while you had the use of your hands?" Sufern asked, wondering to himself if Alan had Stockholm's or something.

"No," Alan looked down, "I didn't."

"That's alright, Sprout," John murmured in Alan's ear, so only Alan heard him, "Just like before, it was safer not to. Don't let Sufern make you think any differently, okay?"

Alan nodded and gave a small smile to the only other blonde in the family, "Doing that would mean uncomfortable results…and I was still shirtless, and so didn't really feel like going there."

"Any conversations while 'Billy' possibly packed?"

"He looked at my hand…_again_ and thought it was infected. Then told me the final bid would be going in soon…didn't tell me the bid," Alan looked curiously at his father.

"Sorry, Alan," Jeff answered the unspoken question, "Only Brains and I know the value. You don't need to know."

Alan nodded, not really minding being kept in the dark on that one, "Had another sandwich," Alan continued where he left off, "Then Billy said it was time to part ways and what not."

"How did he leave you?"

Alan shook his head at the returning memories, "He…uh…He warned me I wasn't going to like the next bit…and if I fought back he would drug me. But the drug was a paralytic, I think he called it, and I wouldn't be able to move, but would know what was happening, and the effects could last for a while. So I did what he said, just wasn't happy about doing it."

"What did you do?"

Alan let out a long breath, "He directed me into a chest and sat me down. Then he tied my hands and feet, and they were connected with another rope," some tears started to prick Alan's eyes, but blinked them away, "Then he wanted the gag again. I wouldn't open my mouth, so he pinched my nose. I couldn't breathe, or get him to let go, I _had_ to open my mouth. When I did, he put the gag in, and then closed the chest. I tried kicking it open and getting out of the ropes, but moving hurt my hand. So I had to wait for whoever was getting me to get me. How long was I in there?" Alan looked at Scott.

Scott clenched his jaw, and breathed through his nose, "Brains called me fifteen minutes after the guy was supposed to call the winner. Then it took about twenty minutes to get to you. A little under an hour, Sprout, I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster."

"It's okay Scott," Alan gave him a small smile, "'Cause it was you that came, not some other person," Alan's lipped trembled as he thought about if someone else had come.

"So that brings Alan back to us," Virgil spoke up, "Guess we're done here."

Jeff nodded, "Unless you have questions for anyone else, but Alan's tale is done," he left no room for argument.

Sufern nodded, a little frustrated, but he agreed, "Yes, we're done here. I would like to talk with Scott at some point, but that can wait until tomorrow. Then I have a few questions for you, Mr. Tracy, before you leave for your island."

"Of course," Jeff said standing, holding out his hand, "I'll call you tomorrow morning."

Sufern took the offered hand, "I look forward to it," he said dryly; then winced in pain as Jeff took a crushing grip before letting go with a not-so-nice smile.

John stood up, saying, "I'll walk you to your car."

"That isn't necessary," Sufern tried to deflect.

"No I insist," John said lightly with a charming smile. Sufern nodded and moved towards the door with John in tow.

John was quiet as they went down the elevator to the parking garage. Stepping off the elevator, John followed Sufern to his car.

"I think you have seen me out now, John," Sufern said turning to John.

John's friendly smile and features were gone; what stood before Sufern was a blonde version of an angry Scott, which was almost scarier. Without warning, John threw a right hook at Sufern's jaw, making the agent's head whip to the side.

Sufern rubbed his jaw and glared at John, "You just assaulted a federal agent, young man, not the smartest thing to do."

John just gave a cold smile, "I seem to remember you walking into a door," he cocked his head to the side, "No cameras in this part of the garage, no bystanders, how will you prove it?"

Sufern took a step towards John, "I won't need to prove it—"

John cut him off with another punch, this one to the gut. Grabbing Sufern's neck, John whispered in his ear, "If you _ever_ make my brother feel like that again or if you even come _close_ to anyone in my family again…the only witnesses to your death will be seagulls and sharks off the coast of our island." John released Sufern and walked away, never looking back.


	34. Decisions

When John got back to the room, Gordon and Scott were out on the balcony with the door closed; looked like a heated conversation. "What's up with those two?" John asked Virgil.

Virgil looked out the glass doors, "Uh, I think Gordon called Scott out on the shocking actually hurting. Scott is right now trying to defend his choice of saying it didn't hurt…don't think Gordo's letting him off easy though," he finished with a shrug.

John nodded taking a seat, "Alan?"

"Dad's having him take a nap. Gave him a mild sedative to help," Virgil responded, picking up the newspaper. "What'd you do to your hand?" Virgil asked not looking from the paper.

John realized he had been rubbing his knuckles, and snorted, "Found a softer target than a wall."

Virgil peeked over the top of the paper, "Thanks for not having me fix another right hand."

"No problem, Virg," John gave a crooked smile, "Figured two was enough for a while anyways."

"Yeah, well," Virgil went back to reading, "Gordon is still a candidate."

"Speak of the devil," John muttered as Gordon stormed in, Scott following shortly after, "Nice chat?"

"Peachy," Gordon growled, moving to the kitchen and digging in the fridge.

"That isn't a good sign," John remarked, "He went to the fridge and still hasn't found something to eat."

"Let's just say, I'm in the Fish's dog house for a while," Scott sucked on his upper lip as he sat, "Apparently, he doesn't want us to lie to him to protect him anymore."

"In this case, Scott," Jeff said closing the bedroom door, "It may have been better to be straight with him."

Scott nodded, "He said as much, just with more words."

Jeff patted Scott's back, before going to Gordon, "Hey, Gordon, why don't we order take out for dinner."

"Sure, Dad," Gordon sighed, closing the fridge and slumping onto a bar stool, "What are we going to get?"

"Why don't you pick," Jeff said, pulling out some local restaurant menus form a drawer by the phone.

Gordon flipped through the menus halfheartedly, "Let's do Chinese," he picked out a menu.

"Sounds good," John said form the sitting area.

"Why don't you go lie down too," Jeff suggested to Gordon.

"I'm not tired, Dad," Gordon groused.

"No but, you'll feel better after relaxing for a little while," Jeff guided Gordon to the bedroom, closing the door behind his son.

John placed an order for the local Chines place, which also happened to deliver. "Food will be here in half an hour," he announced.

Scott nodded, rubbing his belly, "Good, I'm starving!"

As Jeff sat down, Virgil put the paper down. "What are you going to do about Alan and school?" Virgil broached the subject all the older brothers had been worrying about.

Jeff sighed and rubbed his face, "I don't know. I know he isn't staying _here_, that monster is still out there. But that makes finding another place hard as well…he could be anywhere."

"Do you think he would go after Alan again?" Scott asked, worried by the idea.

"I don't know what this man will do," Jeff answered, "He got what he wanted, who's to say he won't try again?"

"I say Alan comes home," John broke the silence that had fallen.

"I'm with John," Virgil added his opinion.

"I think for now, that may be the only option," Jeff agreed, "He's already missed the first two weeks of school for anywhere else; catching up would be too difficult."

"Then home school him and Fermat with Tin-tin," Scott voiced, "We can all help out with some subject or something."

"Let me guess," John smiled, "You want gym class?"

"I already have a self-defense program in mind," Scott smiled back.

"That maybe the best course of action; for now," Jeff nodded, "But he will be distracted by International Rescue…so it will not be a long term arrangement."

"I think we can work around that," John stated, "We just need to give him a reason to focus on school first."

"I think after this experience," Virgil began solemnly, "He'll be more focused on something other than being a Thunderbird, and will use school as a scapegoat."

The three other men nodded in silent agreement.

After a while, a knock at the door broke the stillness of the room. John got up and peeked through the peep hole, "Food's here," he explained, opening the door. Handing the food to Virgil who had gotten up, John paid for the meal.

"Should we get the other two?" Virgil nodded towards the bedroom as he put the food on the table.

"Let Alan sleep," Jeff said, "But see if Gordon wants to eat."

Scott nodded and went into the bedroom; smiling at his two youngest brothers. Gordon was on his back, and arm under Alan's neck. Alan was curled up into Gordon's side, holding his shirt tightly with his left hand.

Scott kneeled next to Gordon and shook his shoulder, "Hey, Fish," he whispered.

Gordon opened one eye, "What?" he whispered back tiredly.

"Food's here, want to eat now or later?"

"Now, help me get Alan up," Gordon gestured to his only little brother.

"Dad wanted him to sleep," Scott protested.

Gordon shook his head and frowned, "He had a nightmare and only calmed down when I pulled him close. He can't be alone right now."

Scott frowned; thinking to himself, _why does he have to worry about this kind of thing?_ "Alright, let's get Sprout up then."

"Hey, Al," Gordon said louder than the whisper he had been using and shook his brother, "Time for dinner."

"Hmmm," Alan curled tighter, "Not hungry."

"Sprout," Scott said moving to Alan's side, "We got Chinese. I know how much you like Chinese cuisine."

"Keep talking," Alan smirked, turning his head towards Scott.

"I think John got you some chicken wings, lo mein, and spring rolls," Scott supplied.

"Yum," Alan yawned and blinked tiredly.

"Let's go eat then," Gordon said sitting him and Alan up, "Some of us _are_ hungry!"

"Some?" Scott smiled, helping Alan stand, "I think _all_ is a better description."

"So long as you stay away from my chicken!" Alan elbowed his oldest brother.

"No promises, Sprout," Scott chuckled, "No promises."


	35. Doubts

The next morning, the Tracy's got up late; all of them mentally exhausted after Alan's recounting of his time with Billy. Room service was ordered for breakfast and soon everyone was relaxing in the sitting room or in the warming sun on the balcony.

Jeff called Sufern, who wanted to talk with Scott; but on the phone and not in person. Scott took the call in the bedroom. He came out twenty minute later, a scowl on his face, "He's a dead man," he growled handing the phone back to his father.

"Who?" John asked from the couch.

"Sufern…Billy…take your pick," Scott huffed, sitting next to John with his arms crossed.

"Okay…Why are they dead men?" John inquired.

"Sufern because I just don't like him," Scott replied.

"And Billy?" Jeff asked, "Other than the obvious reasons, of course."

Scott clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, "Let me start at the beginning…Sufern first expressed his displeasure at me not bringing along law enforcement when I got Alan. Then finally figured out that I couldn't have gotten there in twenty minutes…but he has no way of charging me because there is no real proof, so he's annoyed with that."

"Sounds like you should be happy," John cut in, "You got Sufern pissed."

"Small pleasure," Scott grumbled, "Because apparently, the building was leveled when the police _did_ get there. Which is why Billy is a dead man."

"Leveled?" Jeff cocked his head.

"He rigged it to blow or collapse or something," Scott explained with a sigh, "Now there is no way to get evidence to find or track him."

"This guy really knows how to cover his trail," John frowned, "No wonder he hasn't been caught yet."

"And just think," Scott muttered, "He was _taught_ how to hide himself so well…that means someone _else_ can do it too!"

"And there goes my sleep for a month," John said paling a little.

"Well, we're leaving tonight," Jeff stated, "And then we'll see what we can dig up from what Alan told us."

"You want to find this guy?" John asked curiously.

"I want to do more than find him, John," was all Jeff said in answer.

Out on the balcony, Alan was dozing lightly on a lounger. Virgil and Gordon keeping watch either in a lounger or on the bench, respectively. "He have any more nightmares last night?" Gordon whispered to Virgil; Gordon having slept on the floor last night, and Virgil with Alan.

Virgil nodded, "Early in the night. But he calmed down when I hummed to him. But I think he also had a good dream. He whispered a name," Virgil furrowed his eyebrows in thought," …Mary? No…Maryann? No…Marina? Yeah, Marina…no idea who that is…but he sort of smiled before he said it."

"Think it's some hot girl he met?" Gordon smirked.

"You'll have to ask him," Virgil chuckled, "I personally, don't like prying into my brothers' dreams…especially if a girl is involved."

"Good call," Gordon nodded in agreement.

"It's not a hot girl I met," Alan stated, not opening his eyes, "Just a girl I met."

Virgil and Gordon both flinched and had sheepish looks on their faces. Clearing his throat, Gordon asked, "Care to elaborate?"

"No," Alan smiled slyly, "Not really."

"Awe, come on, Al!" Gordon dramatically whined, "Where'd ya meet her?"

"In a dream," Alan said opening one eye and daring Gordon or Virgil to mock him.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, "And when did you first dream about her?"

Alan quickly closed his eyes and turned his head away, "During the second bid," he said barely above a whisper.

Gordon and Virgil shared a look, "And she keeps coming back?"

Alan sighed, and looked back at his brothers, "Promise not to laugh?"

"Promise," they both said.

"And not to tell _anyone_ else…Dad, Scott, and John included," Alan pressed. Both brothers nodded. Alan took a deep breath and let it out, "She said she was my guardian angel," he said, checking both Virgil and Gordon's reactions.

"And did she help you?" Virgil asked.

Alan nodded, "She keeps the nightmares away."

"Still keeps them away?" Gordon questioned.

"Yeah, Gordo," Alan closed his eyes again, "Still having nightmares. But she thinks highly of all you…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gordon wondered.

"That all of you will keep me safe," Alan replied.

"And she's right," Virgil said confidently, putting a hand on Alan's shoulder.

"I know," Alan whispered, "I never doubted that."

"What did you doubt?" Virgil asked, catching a second meaning to Alan's words.

Alan turned onto his side, his back to Gordon and Virgil; "Myself," he said barely audible.

Gordon and Virgil shared a worried look. Gordon mouthing, w_hat do we do?_

Virgil shrugged, _tell Dad?_ Gordon shook his head, so Virgil asked, _why?_

Gordon leaned closer to Virgil and whispered in his ear, "Alan didn't really tell us. He just said it aloud, probably doesn't realize he did."

"And so what _do_ we do, then?" Virgil whispered back.

"Make him believe in himself again," Gordon replied with a small smile, "But we have to make him think he did it on his own; he can't think we set him up to feel better."

"Good thing you know how to prank," Virgil smiled, "And plan."

"There is always a reason for things, dear brother," Gordon winked then sat back.

"So you to care to explain Operation Angry Elder?" Virgil changed the subject, "I mean I am the youngest Elder, so could be excluded from them sometimes."

Alan flopped back on his back and looked over smiling, "That really depends on your attitude and how you act. You can't just go back and forth willy nilly."

"Especially if you are going to be a double agent," Gordon gave Virgil a speculative look, "So you have to go through a few tests and initiations. And then an oath…all before we reveal our secrets."

"Course then our team name would have to change to," Alan pointed out, "Terrible two plus two, really doesn't sound good."

"True, very true," Gordon rubbed his chin, "We'll have to get back to you, Virgie. Have to have a staff meeting and vote on your entrance to our exclusive organization. Which will probably happen after Operation Angry Elder."

"So no details for you," Alan finished, "But don't let that stop you from applying. We are always open to more operatives…temporary as they may be."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Virgil asked glancing between his two youngest brothers.

"That you can't always be on the inside…eventually you will be a full Elder," Gordon shrugged.

"Great," Virgil huffed, which only resulted in Gordon and Alan bursting into mirth-filled laughter.


	36. Brownie Points

"Alright, boys," Jeff called, "Let's get going."

The five Tracy sons nodded, grabbing their packed suitcases and following their father out the door. In the parking garage, everyone piled into the rental SUV; Jeff driving, Scott in the passenger seat, Alan sitting between John and Virgil on the middle bench seats, and Gordon all the way in the back.

"Hey, Dad?" Alan piped up as his father pulled out into traffic.

"Yes Alan?" Jeff asked glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Not that I don't want to be going home," Alan began, "But what about all my stuff at school?"

Jeff chuckled, "Fermat and Brains packed up the room before they left, it should be arriving at the island in a few days. So you don't have to worry about that."

"Oh," Alan nodded, leaning into John, "And when are we getting home?"

"This isn't going to become an 'are we there yet' ride, is it?" Scott questioned looking over his shoulder.

Alan grinned, "Not this time, Scooter, just really want to be home."

"Good," Scott gave a curt nod and face forward again.

"Are we there yet?" Gordon asked from the back seat grinning devilishly.

"Don't even go there," John warned, "Or I'll come back there, sit on you, and proceed to give you a wet willy."

"Boys," Jeff sighed, "Let's not start. I really don't want to turn around."

"Technically you are turning around, Dad," Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

"How do you figure?" Jeff asked distractedly.

"Well…this is a return trip for all of us," Virgil pointed, "So you're just turning around in the long run of this trip."

"Uh-huh," was all Jeff said.

Alan discreetly elbowed Virgil and gave him a thumbs up, while Gordon whispered in his ear, "Going for brownie points to join us, are you?"

"I know not of what you speak," Virgil smirked.

"Much to learn, grasshopper, much to learn," Gordon said sitting back again.

"Scott, call Brains, tell him we are taking off soon," Jeff said as he pulled up to the temporary parking spot for their jet.

"You landed at Archer's?" Alan said unbuckling and following John out the side.

"Better than the hour and a half away airport, Sprout," John smiled.

"I'm going to go finish signing Alan out," Jeff said walking towards the administration building, "Get the jet ready," he called over his shoulder.

"Come on," Virgil said grabbing Scott's bag, while Gordon grabbed Jeff's, along with their own, "We can be ready to go as soon as he gets back."

"Who's going to fly home?" Alan asked, a little hopeful.

"Not you," Virgil smiled, "Your hand makes you and Scott unable to."

"And there go the brownie points," Alan muttered to Gordon.

"Like you could fly if Scott was able to," Gordon snorted.

"I have my ways," Alan said vaguely.

"Whatever you say, Al," Gordon laughed.

"Still didn't answer my question though," Alan called up to Virgil and John, "Who's flying?"

"Us," John said pointing to himself and Virgil, "We're doing preflight after all."

"What about me?" Gordon called.

"I vetoed you," John shrugged, "Being a possible target of your next prank."

"That's more reason to keep me close and/or happy," Gordon pointed out as they boarded the plane.

"Sit," John said pushing Gordon into one of the plush chairs of the main cabin, "Stay," he commanded.

Gordon grumbled to himself as Alan sat smirking in a chair across from him, "Good dog," he grinned.

Gordon glared, "Don't even start, _Sprout_." Alan frowned, Gordon didn't call him 'Sprout'; they had both agreed to leave that to the 'elders'.

"Alright," Alan held his hands up in surrender, "Truce?"

Gordon nodded and gave Alan a grin, "While they fly, we can plan Virgil's possible testing."

Alan was about to respond, but Jeff and Scott boarded and closed the plane's hatch. "Let's get going," Jeff called to his piloting sons.

"F.A.B" was the response.

Jeff sat next to Alan with a sigh, "We should be home in a few hours, why don't you get some sleep?"

Alan shook his head, "I'm not tired, but you look like you haven't slept in weeks. Go sleep."

Jeff gave Alan a sideways glance, "That obvious?"

Alan shook his head, "Only if someone knows you; now go." Alan elbowed his father up; Gordon got up and guided him to one of the benches near the back.

Scott sat down next to Alan, "How you holding up, Sprout?"

"Good," Alan smiled, "And drop the Sprout usage."

Scott chuckled, "Not anytime soon."

"Gah," Alan groaned, "Why?"

"Because, you are our Sprout," Scott smiled, nudging Alan, "And we are ready to lock you away forever. So what would you prefer: being locked in your room for the rest of your life? Or endless use of Sprout?"

Alan looked thoughtful, "What does being locked away involve?"

"You seriously considering that option?" Scott looked shocked.

"Possibly…" Alan shrugged, "But I want to look at which would be worse, right now locked away is better than 'Sprout'."

"What if I said locked away is never leaving your room without one of us connected at the hip, then a locating chip permanently attached to you, and possibly cameras all over your room."

"I guess I can live with 'Sprout'," Alan said after some more thought, "Really done with cameras for a while."

Scott flinched at the sudden revelation, "Alan? You can talk to me, you know that right?"

"Yeah, Scooter," Alan gave Scott a small smile, "I know. Still sorting it all out though."

Scott nodded in understanding, "Well, you should be happy to know, you're going to be home schooled for a while."

"Really?" Alan asked excitedly, "How that happen?"

"Well it's too late for a new school now," Scott explained, "And then there's the bit about each of us teaching you different areas. Guess what I'm teaching."

"Self-defense," Alan answered with an easy smile, "You are so protective that after this you would want to make me safer when you aren't around," Alan explained at Scott's surprised face.

"Damn," Scott muttered, "If you get any better at straight faces, the rest of us are in some serious trouble. No more time with Gordon," he decided firmly.

Alan smiled bigger, "I didn't learn it from him," a devious twinkle in Alan's eyes made Scott inwardly groan.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I wouldn't tell you if you did," Alan retorted.

"Wonderful," Scott huffed, _we are all doomed!_


	37. Light Duty

"We'll be landing in five," Virgil called from the front.

"Took you long enough," Gordon returned wryly.

"Don't make me turn around and dump you stateside," John retorted.

"Boys," Jeff shook his head, "Is this what you are all going to be like while all of you are home?"

"You seriously have to ask?" Alan looked at his father.

"I guess I don't," Jeff rubbed his eyes, "Can I at least ask that the peace be kept reasonably intact?"

"Sure you can ask," Gordon replied, "Don't know if it will actually happen."

"Then I'll make it an order," Scott set a hard look on Gordon.

"Why does everyone assume I will cause trouble?" Gordon threw his hands up.

"Because you are the one that gets caught," Alan smiled. Jeff and Scott quickly set a questioning and suspicious look on the youngest Tracy; making his smile bigger.

"You see?" Gordon pointed at Alan, "I am _not_ the only one you have to worry about."

As the Jet came to a stop in the hanger, Scott opened the hatch. The Tracy's disembarked to be surrounded by Brains, Fermat, Tin-tin, and Kyrano.

Fermat and Tin-tin quickly enveloped Alan in a group hug, only to be broken by Brains and Kyrano want to give Alan a warm welcome of their own.

"Why don't we move this to the house," Jeff suggested.

"Onaha has a dinner ready for all of you," Kyrano informed with a smile.

"What are we waiting for?" Alan replied, rubbing his belly in anticipation.

"Infirmary first," Virgil said, taking Alan by the shoulders and guiding him.

"But," Alan tried to protest.

"Uh-huh," Virgil shook his head, "I said I'd wait until we got home. We're home, now Sprout."

"Y-yes a-and I w-w-would l-like to h-h-have a l-l-l-see f-for m-myself," Brains added, coming up behind them as they entered the sickbay.

"Take a seat," Virgil instructed and pointed to one of the beds.

"This couldn't wait until _after_ Onaha's amazing smelling dinner?" Alan grumbled laying back on one of the beds.

"N-no," Brains replied, walking towards Alan with a blood drawing kit, "I n-need y-y-you w-with an e-e-empty s-stomach."

"Better blood tests that way," Virgil continued, walking over with fresh gauze and bandaging, "And your hand hasn't had a fresh bandage for over a day now.

Alan just pouted as Brains drew blood from his left arm and Virgil began undoing his right hand's wrapping. "What about Scott? His hand still needs X-rays."

Virgil smiled crookedly, "Thank you for the reminder," Virgil pushed the intercom near the bed, "Scott, could you come down here?"

"_Why?"_ Was the simple response.

"I don't want to be alone with Virgil and Brains," Alan lied, knowing that Scott wouldn't come down if he knew the real reason.

"_Why did you ask for Scott? The rest of us are a little hurt,"_ John's voice came.

"I don't want Scott to eat all the food before I get there," Alan responded.

"You are getting too good at lying," Virgil whispered, "Would you just send Scott?" He spoke to the intercom.

"_He's already on his way,"_ John replied.

"He's already here," Scott said form the doorway.

"Hey," Alan smiled, "I just need a friendly face…these two are being vampires."

Scott smiled and sat on the bed to Alan's left; closest to Brains. "W-w-what's w-wrong w-w-with y-your h-h-hand, Scott?" Brains asked, playing dumb.

Scott looked at his hand and shrugged, "Nothing Brains, just sore."

"Bull," Virgil said not looking up from examining Alan's hand, "He needs an X-ray Brains; most likely broke his first three metacarpals or phalangies punching a wall."

Brain 'tsked' as he finished drawing blood. Putting the vials on the counter, Brians got a new pair of gloves and a portable X-ray. "K-keep y-y-your h-h-hand st-st-still," he ordered Scott.

Scott did as he was told, and soon Brians was looking at the pictures on a laptop. "Virgil w-was r-r-r-correct, Scott, y-y-you br-broke y-y-your h-hand."

"How bad?" Virgil asked having scanned Alan's hand and determining there was no more glass.

"T-t-two p-places," Brians said turning the screen.

Virgil scrutinized the images, and then nodded, "Sure did. I think a cast for six weeks should do it. What do you think?"

"F-four w-weeks a-and w-w-we re-re-re-look a-again," Brains concurred.

"Four weeks!" Scott exclaimed, "What am I supposed to do for four weeks!"

"Possibly six," Alan pointed out.

"Not helping," Scott growled.

"Hey, I'm in the same boat," Alan said pointing to his right hand.

"Actually, your stiches should be out in a couple weeks," Virgil smiled, "But you will need to do exercises to get full strength back. Both of you are light duty 'til told otherwise."

"I was light duty anyways," Alan grumbled, "Not like I'm a Thunderbird."

"You're sitting me behind Command and Control for four to six weeks?" Scott muttered angrily.

"Actually," Jeff said walking in, "You still have your rotation on Five. So I guess part of it will be there.

"That's going to leave us short-handed on rescues," Virgil pointed out.

Jeff shook his head, "We have three extra sets of hands that need training and Brains."

"Really?" Alan asked hopeful.

"When you're better, yes," Jeff smiled at his youngest's enthusiasm, "But school comes first," he added.

Alan nodded his head energetically. "Scott, n-n-needs t-to st-stay h-here f-f-for a w-w-week or s-s-so," Brains spoke up.

"Gordon still has some time on Five," Jeff thought, "He can finish his rotation then Scott can go up, like we had planned."

"Or Scott could stay down here and recuperate," Scott suggested.

"Not a chance," Jeff said patting his oldest on the shoulder, "Now are you all done here? Dinner is really start torture all of us waiting."

"I just need to rewrap Alan's hand," Virgil informed.

"A-and I n-need t-to c-c-cast Scott's h-h-h-bones," Brains added.

"Then we'll be up," Virgil finished, "Ten or fifteen minutes."

Jeff nodded and left the infirmary.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: trying to wrap up this story...shouldn't be too much longer. My problem right now is keeping it from just sputtering out to a horrible ending...crossing my fingers to not let that happen. Thanks for reading!**


	38. Quelling Fears

It had been three days since Alan's return. Jeff, John, and Brains had been tirelessly working to find 'Billy' but not knowing anything about the man made that near impossible. The assumption that 'Billy' was older than Scott but younger than Jeff was a stretch but they felt it was a likely range. The problem however, was that going back to when 'Billy' would have been ten to fourteen meant that there were many young boys that had gone missing and never been found.

The three cursed 'Billy' even more for not revealing anything about himself, and how he was so efficient at hiding himself and his victims. John and Brains had been able to direct the police and FBI to the dummy site, only to find dust covered computer screens and relaying equipment. Any way to trace the electronics had been removed along with any way to find 'Billy'. Sufern had called the search off, calling the case cold.

Scott was pissed about Sufern stopping the search, but after John told him how they hadn't found anything, there was no way the FBI could. Scott grudgingly accepted that.

One night, after Alan had gone to bed, Scott expressed to his family that they shouldn't tell Alan, "He doesn't need to know that the man that kidnapped him and auctioned him off is still out there. He needs to have a life that doesn't consist of looking over his shoulder."

"I agree with you, Scott," Jeff said, "But we have to tell him something. He will wonder if 'Billy' was found."

"We tell him that the search is coming to a close," John suggested, "Not a lie and not telling him that 'Billy' is lose."

"Alan's smarter than that," Gordon expressed from the wall screen; having gone back up to Five, "He will wonder about a trial."

"And with the little evidence they have, a trial would be necessary," Virgil admitted.

"Then what do we do?" Scott looked to his father.

Jeff sighed, "For now, let's let him forget. If it comes up, send him to me. We can't try to protect him; he will only feel worse later."

Gordon, knowing Alan the best, nodded in agreement, "He needs to know he can trust us and that we trust him. Hiding this from him will make him think we don't trust him to handle it, which will lead him to not trust us."

After the family pow-wow, the Tracy's broke off to their rooms; it was late in the night after all. As Scott closed his door, he jumped seeing a figure on his balcony. Frowning, Scott silently made his way to the open door and recognized Alan.

"Hey, Scooter," Alan said not turning around.

"Hey, Sprout," Scott returned, standing next to Alan, "I thought you were sleeping."

Alan shook his head, "Couldn't sleep."

"Come sit," Scott said pulling Alan down next to him on one of his loungers.

Alan relaxed into Scott's side, curling up. Scott held him close; keeping quiet, knowing Alan would talk when he was ready. After a while, Alan let out a long breath, "When will this be over, Scooter?"

"What, Sprout?" Scott asked genuinely confused.

"Billy…Me not being able to sleep…Jumping at the slightest touch…everything," Alan trailed off, craning his neck to look at Scott.

Scott swallowed and gave Alan a small squeeze, "It is over Alan," he said firmly, "You just need to get your confidence back. And we all want to help you…you just need to let us."

"I'm trying, Scooter," Alan whispered, "But I close my eyes and I'm back to being tied to the chair or bed."

"Talk about it," Scott encouraged, "We will all listen and it will help. There also isn't that son of a –"

"Scott!" Alan stopped him.

"Sorry," Scott said, even though he wasn't, "Anyway, Sufern isn't around, so you won't be pushed or made to believe you should have done something. We all think that you not resisting was safer and do not think any less of you."

Alan was quiet for a while, silent tears soaking Scott's shirt. "Part of me feels sorry for Billy," Alan finally said.

Scott frowned, but he also knew were Alan was coming from; Billy had said he had gone through a much worse experience, and Alan was able to relate…the fact that Scott was biased against Billy was another story. Scott sigh, "I can't say I agree with you…but I do understand you," he replied.

"Does that make me bad? Make me like him?"

"No!" Scott exclaimed, "That makes you human! You can relate to him, so you know what he went through…but it does _not_ make you like him. You hear me?"

"Yeah," Alan nodded, "Thanks, Scooter, I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Sprout," Scott rubbed Alan's shoulder, "And I can tell you anyone else here will say the same thing. If they don't, you tell me and I'll make them reconsider."

"Even Dad?"

"Yes, even Dad," Scott smiled, "But I bet you anything he would have told you fist had you gone to him."

Alan nodded and took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "When do you leave for Five?"

"In a few days," Scott grumbled, "Though you could ask Dad for me to stay…"

"No way, Scooter," Alan chuckled, "But maybe I can come up with you. I have to learn how it all works sometime, you know?"

"I would definitely not be one to teach you," Scott laughed, "That is all Johnny the space-cadet."

"What no zero gravity tai-chi?" Alan teased.

"Hmmm," Scott rolled the idea round, "I'll have to look into that while I'm up there."

Alan laughed before going quiet again. After a moment, Scott realized he had fallen asleep when Alan snored softly. Smiling, Scott settled into a more comfortable position, and closed his eyes.

That is where both of them would be found in the morning when Jeff went looking for Scott.


	39. The Chase

Jeff smiled looking at his oldest and youngest. Alan was awake, but didn't want to disturb Scott by moving, so he only smiled and waved to Jeff. "Good morning," Jeff whispered sitting down on the other lounger.

"Morning," Alan replied, "You need anything?"

"Nah," Jeff waved a hand nonchalantly, "Just wondering where you two where, it's past breakfast."

Alan nodded, "I've been up enjoying the sunrise…Scooter, however, hasn't twitched."

Hearing his name, Scott mumbled something in his sleep and tried to roll over. As he was about to roll off the chair, Alan grabbed his oldest brother's arm and heaved the opposite direction, "Scott! Wake up!" Alan panted, having only his left hand to hold Scott up.

"What?" Scott groaned peeking his eyes open before snapping them open realizing his precarious position, "Whoa!"

Jeff jumped up and held Alan with one arm and he grabbed Scott with is other, "Easy, boys," he grunted.

Scott unfortunately couldn't us his right hand to hold himself up because of the cast and is left arm was being held by Alan and Jeff. Alan was trying to get a better grip with his left hand, while not falling off the other side of the chair. Jeff was barely keeping both of them steady.

And that is when Virgil walked in. Virgil took in the scene with one look and burst into laughter. "Virgil! Don't just stand there, help," Scott growled.

Virgil was crying from laughing so hard and rolling on the floor; completely useless. Alan was now having a hard time trying not to laugh too which made him lose his balance and grip weaken. Losing his battle, Alan let go of Scott, who pulled his father over the chair as he fell off the chair. Alan rolled off his side gasping for breath between laughing. Jeff was sprawled over the chair, joining in the laughter. The loud and mirthful laughs called John to the room.

Fighting a smile by biting his lip, John walked over to Scott who was untangling his legs from the chair. "You alright, big brother?"

"Oh just peachy," Scott muttered, by he couldn't fight his own smile. Soon John and Scott were also trying to regain control of their laughter.

After ten minutes, the five Tracy's managed to catch their breath and calm themselves. "So what happened exactly," John asked humorously.

"Scott was rolling off the chair," Alan fought another bout of laughter, "And I tried to catch him…but he's too big!"

"And Alan was down a hand," Jeff chuckled, "As well as Scott. So neither could catch themselves."

"So Dad was holding both Alan and Scott from falling, when I came in," Virgil smiled, "And then Alan let go…that's when it all went to heck!"

John fought more laughter as he pictured the scene playing out, "Man, and here I thought Gordon had pulled a prank while being in space!"

"Don't put it past him," Alan warned, "You are all liable targets."

That had all the adults looking at Alan. Scott gave him a mock glare, "Oh really? And you just so happen to be his partner in crime…wonder how long you'll be able hold out without him."

Alan eyes widened, "You wouldn't," he said backing away.

John cast a devious smile at Virgil, "We would," he said looking at Alan.

Alan wasted no time in ducking around Virgil and out the door. John and Scott took off after him, while Virgil just watched them go. "You're not going after him?" Jeff asked his middle son.

"Nope," Virgil smiled, "I'm actually going to help him. Trying to make myself _not_ an Elder right now."

Jeff raised his eye brows, "Switching sides could be tricky," he warned, walking with Virgil out of Scott's room.

"Yeah, but Gordon and Alan have expressed that it would only be temporary," Virgil shrugged, "But I would like some prank free years for a while."

Jeff smiled as Virgil jogged out of the living room, out to find and help Alan.

Alan was sprinting along a trail that led to the beach. His plan was to lead his pursuers towards the beach then leave the trail and double back. Only problem was, they were too close; he had to lose them…_but how?_ Alan thought, _I could cut off now, make them track through the jungle. I know this island better than them. Should work…_with that he left the trail and headed for one of the tunnels that led to the Thunderbird hangers.

John and Scott were beating down the path. They could see Alan's blonde head not far ahead, but they still couldn't catch him. "When'd he…get…so fast?" John panted.

"Four older…brothers," Scott gasped back, "Well…three and…a half. Fish doesn't…chase him…so much."

John nodded, "We should…hit the…gym more."

Scott suddenly pulled to a stop and grabbed John to stop him too, "Where'd…he go?"

John looked around; Alan was nowhere to be seen. "I don't know," John replied after catching his breath, "The beach?"

Scott narrowed his eyes and looked around again, "No," he shook his head, "He was leading us there, but he didn't plan on going there; too open."

Virgil called Gordon with his watch, "Gordon, I need your help."

"What's wrong?" Gordon frowned.

"Long story short…Scott and John are chasing Alan to question him about pranks you have planned. Now I need to find Alan or know where to lead Scott and John away from him."

"Why do you want to help him?" Gordon scrutinized as he pulled up the map of the island and located his three other brothers.

"I am trying to defect from the Elders, remember?" Virgil retorted, "And Alan needs help while you aren't around."

Gordon nodded, accepting the answer, "Alright. Alan is headed for the one of the access tunnels for the 'Birds. Scott and John are on the north path for the beach, but they just stopped moving." Gordon frowned trying to figure out what they could be doing. Virgil started for the north path.

"Okay, Gordon," Virgil said, "Tell Alan to head for my room. I'll lead the others into the jungle opposite the house."

"Got it," Gordon nodded, "But you better not double cross us. Alan holds many secrets but not all of them…we have them spread out between us."

"No double cross, promise," Virgil smiled, and then signed off. Seeing his older brothers, Virgil called out, "Hey!"

Scott turned, "Where have you been?"

"Had to convince Dad that we wouldn't hurt Alan. So we can't do that anymore," Virgil lied.

"Well, we lost the trail," John stated looking around again, "We think he was leading us to the beach but planned on somewhere else to actually go."

"He told me about a little cove he found in the summer; thought I might like it for a painting scene, we could try there," Virgil suggested. It wasn't a total lie, Alan had told him about place that would be nice to paint, but he had found the cove while trying to find the spot.

"Lead the way," Scott gestured to Virgil.

"This way," Virgil pointed into the jungle. He was confident he could find the cove again; having discreetly marked a trail.

"Al!" Gordon called his baby brother's watch; it had been given back to him before they left Vermont.

"Yeah, Gordo?" Alan panted looking behind him, "Kinda busy right now."

"I know, Virgie called," Gordon explained, "He's on your side for now. Head for his room."

Alan looked skeptical, "You sure, Gordo?"

"Yeah, I've been watching him; he has Scott and John heading for the west side of the island."

Alan smiled, "He heading for a little freshwater pool before the Point?" The Point was a little jut in the beach that was rock covered cliff on one side and a waterfall.

"Uh…yeah," Gordon said, "How'd you know?"

"I found a little cove near there. Told him about the pool, but knew he'd find the cove for good painting," Alan answered, "We can trust him…for now."

"Then keep going for the tunnel and then his room. Why he wants you to go there…I have no idea," Gordon said before signing off.

Fifteen minute later, Alan was back in the main house and creeping towards Virgil's room. "What are you doing here?" Jeff asked walking into the hall.

"Evasive maneuvers," Alan smiled.

"Ah…well, the coast is clear, no older brothers in sight," Jeff smiled back, "Why are you going to Virgil's room?"

"They would go from my room or Gordo's right away. Virgil's is a good hideaway," Alan replied smoothly; technically they shouldn't have used IR resources, so telling his dad that Virgil told him to would have resulted in questions…Best to avoid that.

"Makes sense," Jeff shrugged, "Course you'll be cornered."

"Nah," Alan shook his head, opening Virgil's door, "There's a tree that allows for a quick escape."

Jeff suddenly got worried, "With one hand?"

Alan nodded confidently, "Done it plenty of times, Dad, don't worry." Jeff didn't look convinced, but Alan closed the door before he could respond.

As Alan turned to face Virgil's room, he froze and gasped.


	40. Upside the Head

"We should have split up," Scott stated as they came to the empty cove.

"How are supposed to know where he'd go?" John asked, "Alan knows this place better than any of us."

"And he only tells us about places he thinks we'll like," Virgil added, "Like this spot, he tell any of you?"

"No," Scott said as he and John shook their heads, "But he has told me about a really high point on the island that you can see anything from on a clear day."

"He showed me a great part of the beach for stargazing," John put in, "I think he explores just to share it all with us."

"Well it doesn't help with finding him, does it?" Scott back on topic, "We know places he's told us, but none of the places he kept to himself."

"Let's asks Gordo to find him," John suggested.

Virgil scoffed, "And risk Dad finding out we used IR tech to hunt down and question Alan…no thank you."

"I can get what I need from here," John said after some thought, and began to fiddle with his watch.

Virgil hid his worried look by walking over to the edge of the clearing. Scott looked over John's shoulder as he brought up a map of the island that showed five dots. "He's at the _house_?" Scott exclaimed, "How'd he get past us?"

"Like I said," John began, heading for the house, "He knows this place better than us."

Virgil followed his brothers, "So what are we going to do exactly?"

"I'm thinking water boarding," Scott mused, picking up the pace.

"No," Virgil said, continuing after Scott and John looked at him funny, "Can't get his hand wet, remember?"

"Tickle torture, then," John thought aloud, "He can never resist that."

"Yeah, but we can't tie him down," Scott mused, "So we have to be careful of his kicking."

"Why not have Onaha bake something amazing, then not give it to him 'til he talks," Virgil tried to for something less drastic.

Jon and Scott shook their heads, set on tickle torture, "Tickling is so much more fun," John decided.

By this time they had almost reached the house. As they passed the pool, Virgil pushed Scott into John making them both fall in, "What was that for?" Scott growled when he surfaced.

"I tripped?" Virgil tried to play it off.

"Traitor," John glared, "You've been working with him!"

"Oh, you are so dead," Scott said climbing out of the pool and advancing on Virgil. John got out on the other side and both cornered Virgil.

"Whoa, hey," Virgil held is hands up in surrender, "You guys take a simple trip too seriously."

"Give it up, _traitor_," John smiled menacingly, "You are going to be our hostage, _that_ will make him talk!"

"What?" Virgil cried, trying to duck around his brothers.

Scott grabbed him in a head lock, however, and John pinned his arms behind him, "Oh no you don't," Scott muttered, "You are coming with us."

Jeff walked into living room as Scott and John dragged a struggling Virgil in. "You got found out, huh?"

"You knew?" John asked as Scott tied Virgil to a dining chair.

Jeff shrugged, "You two are the ones that ran off without him."

Scott cast a half glare at his father as he tied a cloth over Virgil's mouth. Virgil tried to talk but it was muffled, so he settled for trying to get out of the bounds.

"Alright, now we find, Sprout," Scott declared, "We know he's here, so shouldn't be too hard."

"Try his and Gordon's room," John suggested.

Scott thought for a moment, then shook his head, "Alan had to know that Virgil was helping him…but how?"

"You gonna talk?" John directed at Virgil, who shook his head defiantly.

"I say we look in the traitor's room first," Scott decided.

"I was just down there," Jeff spoke up, "Haven't seen him."

Scott narrowed his eyes, "John, take Fish's room. I'll take Sprout's. Then we can both search Traitor's."

John nodded and headed off for Gordon's room. "Watch him, would you?" Scott asked his father, while pointing to Virgil.

"Sure," Jeff smiled and Scott left for Alan's room, "So, what'd you put in your room?" Jeff asked Virgil once they were alone.

Virgil grunted in confusion and cocked his head. Jeff chuckled and removed the gag, "What are you talking about?"

"I know that you and Gordon had a plan. I know that you used this incident to implement that plan. And I know that you used the watches and possibly Five to do it. So what's in there?"

**_Meanwhile…_**

Alan looked around him, still in shock. Virgil's room was covered in paintings and photos, which really wasn't that unusual. What was unusual was the fact that all of the pictures were of Alan; Alan on the beach, Alan with Fermat or Tin-tin, Alan laughing with his brothers, Alan alone or with other people doing various activities.

"What have you been up to, Virgie?" Alan asked himself. He started to walk around and look at each of the pictures more closely. Virgil actually had a copy of his drawing he had been working on when Billy grabbed him. Then there was a version of it to the side with a bit of Virgil's flare. Alan lightly touched it as he continued to look at the images.

There were some sketches of Alan with his mom, but they were one's that he didn't recognize; in fact his mother was older and so was he. _How'd you do that, Virgie?_ Alan found a picture of him laughing as Gordon pulled a prank behind him, "None of these moments had pictures," Alan thought aloud, confused.

More paintings were Alan with the Thunderbirds or around the island. There was even a sketch and then a painting of the cove Alan had directed Virgil to.

Alan was so absorbed in the art around him; he didn't hear the bedroom door open and close as someone entered.

"What do you think?" Virgil asked softly, making Alan jump.

Spinning around, ready to fight, Alan relaxed seeing Virgil, "Where'd you get all of these, Virgie? And why are they all here?"

"I painted most of them from memory, like this one," Virgil picked up the one with Gordon pranking.

"But why?"

Vigil smiled warmly, "Because you needed to see them."

"But I've only been home for four days…" Alan trailed off in confusion and also continued to examine the art.

"I did most of them over the years," Virgil explained putting an arm over Alan's shoulders, "Some I just did, like this one," he picked up the remake of Alan's drawing, "Thought I would express what I saw, but was inspired by yours. You did an amazing job by the way."

"Thanks," Alan mumbled, "What about this one?" he picked up the one with him and his mom.

Virgil took the picture and blinked away some tears, "I drew mom the why I think she'd be now and then put you with her."

"What exactly are we doing?" Alan asked curiously.

Virgil chuckled, "Well mom always liked to paint with her hands and anything that wasn't a brush. She did it a lot with each of us when we got older, but she never got to with you. So I made this, so it was as if she had."

Alan leaned in Virgil, "And why did I need to see these, Virgie?" He whispered.

"Because you need to realize that you have so much to offer and that you make us all who we are," Virgil explained taking Alan into a full hug, "Like this," Vigil picked up a photo of Scott working on Thunderbird One and Alan helping him. "There is also this," he pointed to a large print of Gordon right after he began to walk again after the hydrofoil accident, Alan was in the background ready to jump in and help Gordon but at the same time holding Scott and Jeff back from holding Gordon back. "You also share in all of our interest," Virgil pointed out a picture of John looking at the stars and Alan enraptured in whatever he was saying. There was also a picture of Virgil when he was first practicing his medical skills; Alan was on the bed, wrapped almost head-to-toe in casts, ace bandages, and many other supplies.

John and Scott were standing in the door way, both shocked by the state of Virgil's room and by what they heard Virgil telling Alan. Their heavy hearts lifted as they realized someone had finally gotten through to Alan; and now Alan was going to begin to really heal.

A beeping from Virgil's watch had everyone jumping, "Yeah, Gordon?" Virgil answered.

"Well, how'd it go?"


	41. Nightlife and Epilogue

"How'd what go?" Alan asked suspiciously.

"Oh, um…" Gordon fumbled for an answer.

"Operation Whack Upside the Head," Virgil said, whacking Alan upside the head.

"Hey, what was that for?" Alan rubbed the back of his head.

"You needed it," Gordon replied with a smile, "Oh, and you should both turn around, BYE!" Gordon quickly signed off.

Turning slowly, Alan ducked behind Virgil seeing Scott and John in the door, "Hey, no destroying the art work!" He called from his relatively safe spot.

"How'd you get out?" John finally asked Virgil.

"Apparently, you can't trust Dad when it comes to picking sides," Virgil smiled cheekily.

"Should have seen that coming," Scott muttered, then looked around again, "And when'd you start stalking Alan?"

Virgil glared, "No stalking, just watching for inspiration."

"And whacking upside the head, it seems," John smiled.

"Well that was figurative, until I actually did it," Virgil smiled at Alan, "Looked like you could use both."

Alan mock scowled at Virgil, and then looked at Scott and John suspiciously, "What are you two going to do?"

Scott smiled evilly and stalked forward, "Just a little questioning."

Alan whispered an apology to Virgil, before pushing him into Scott and dashing for the window. Once out the window, he clambered to the tree and down, then headed for the door that went into kitchen; one of the pre-assigned 'safe zones'.

"How'd he get down so fast with one hand?" John asked amazed.

"He comes here a lot in the night," Virgil shrugged, puling Scott to his feet, "And usually has something in his hands."

"Why does he come here?" Scott wondered aloud.

Virgil shrugged again and headed for his door, "Lots of things. He uses the tree so you don't hear him in the hall. But we paint at night or just talk. He usually has a snack, hence the one hand."

As the three walked out of Virgil's room, they headed for the kitchen; knowing Alan would go for the closest 'safe zone'.

"What, does he visit all of us at night?" Scott asked.

"Probably," John answered, "I know I see him a lot when I'm here."

"I see him once or twice a week," Virgil explained.

"Me too," Scott added.

"That's because, I don't see you all enough," Alan stated from the counter he sat on.

"And when do you sleep?" John questioned, sitting next to him.

"When I'm done talking," Alan shrugged, biting into an apple.

"And then he's up with the sun," Tin-tin smiled as she entered.

"That's because you like them," Alan smiled back.

"What about you liking sleep?" Scott mused.

"I get enough," Alan shrugged, "Although I will sleep if there isn't anything better to do. I don't always leave to talk with someone, you know?"

"Yes," Tin-tin nodded, "You go to sleep early if you get up with me. You wake up later if you stay up and talk. And you have one night that is only yours."

"N-no h-he d-d-doesn't," Fermat stated as he walked in too, "H-he c-c-comes t-t-to me, a-and we d-do o-our own st-st-st-things."

"Okay," Alan began, sliding off the counter, "Now that you all know my nightlife, I have to go hide in until Gordo gets back."

"No you don't," John smiled, "We have had enough chasing you to last a while."

"Oh good," Alan smiled in relief, "Then I'm going to go nap, 'cause you know, I was up with Scooter last night."

"And then up with the sun," Jeff called from the hall as he walked by.

"That too," Alan smiled.

**_EPILOGUE_**

Two weeks after Scott came back from Thunderbird Five, he got his cast off. Alan had been working on his physical exercises for his hand, and was almost back to full strength.

For school, he, Fermat, and Tin-tin would have an art lessons from Virgil, science and English from John (from up in Five), gym and later self-defense from Scott, Gordon handled math (barely), and Jeff began to teach them about International Rescue.

On rescues, one of them would observe from Thunderbird Two or One while the other two watched from Command and control. Soon they would each get a turn with John on Thunderbird Five, but that wouldn't happen until after Thanksgiving.

Alan never asked about Billy, but he knew that he was still out there; he had done his own little search and knew his family didn't want him to know, so he kept it to himself and went about his days like nothing was wrong. Deep down though, he knew that Billy was out there, and had a feeling he would be seeing him again; a feeling he couldn't shake.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So that's it...hope the ending wasn't too terrible. If you have any suggestions for a better ending, i will gladly change it! Thank you all for sticking with me and reading/reviewing! see you all in your own stories and hopefully my future ones! laterz 3**

**~WaterDragonQueen1**


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